


You Have Your Prince Charming and I Have Mine

by sakurastar0660



Series: Arrowverse Disney Princesses [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/F, Homophobic Behavior, Homophobic Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence, both Len and Lisa are Cinderella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurastar0660/pseuds/sakurastar0660
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr post by youreturningscarletscarlet. Despite coming from a well off family, Len and Lisa are forced to be servants in their own home and are tormented by their step-mother and step-siblings. One night, when Lisa attends a royal ball, she meets the woman of her dreams who happens to be the princess. Sometime after Lisa goes off to marry the princess, Len has his own adventure with the prince, falling in love despite the fact the prince thinks he's a courtier. Tensions rise and Leonard must give himself up for the better of his family at a great price but Mick's not letting him go so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mix of Disney's Cinderella and Ever After. If you have not seen Ever After, I suggest watching it because it's a good movie and Danielle is similar to Len in a few ways. So any scenes or lines of dialogue that are used here belong to them.

“Lenny, do you believe in fairytales?”

No, is his initial response but he never wants Lisa to give up hope that she could have a fairytale ending of her own and get out of their shitty situation, even when he probably wouldn’t. “Of course.” He tells her instead. “And one day, your Prince Charming is going to come and whisk you away from here; take you somewhere that’s so much better.”

Lisa turns to looks at him, a few loose strands falling into her face. “And what about you? Don’t you think your prince is coming?”

Len huffs at that. Lisa’s the only one who knows he’s gay because his father would beat him senseless, blaming him and claiming that he choose to be gay while his step-mother and step-siblings would just mock him and make him, even more, their punching bag. “I’m not sure Lise.”

“Why not?” Lisa rings out the towel she’s using to clean. “Don’t tell me you don’t think you don’t deserve a Prince Charming.”

Len sets his brush down, looking over at his sister. “To be honest yes- I don’t think I deserve a Prince Charming.”

“But why not?” Lisa comes to stand next to him. “You’re the kindest, most caring brother anyone could ask for and you deserve to be happy as well.”

“All I care about is seeing you be happy.” Len raises his hand,  gently caressing her cheek.

Lisa takes Len’s hand in hers. “But you deserve to be happy too.”

“Lisa-”

The door leading down into the kitchen opens and Lisa pulls away from Len, both of them returning to their cleaning. Heavy boots pound down the stairs as Lewis’ large form comes into view. “Lisa! Your mother needs you. Now!” Lewis snaps when Lisa doesn’t move fast enough. Lewis turns his attention to Len. “Leonard, what were you two talking about?”

“Nothing.” Len says.

“Don’t lie to me, boy.” Lewis snarls, grabbing a handful of Len’s hair to drag him close. Len gasps and hisses in pain, regretting the decision to let his hair grow out even just the tiniest bit. “I heard you two talking and I demand you tell me.  _ Now _ .”

“W-we were just talking about what to make for dinner tonight since Theodore’s coming home.”

“Oh really? Is that so?”

“Yes.”Len grits his teeth when his father tightens his grip. “That’s all.”

Lewis narrows his eyes, shoving his son towards the door. “Well then, if you know what you are going to make, then go, you stupid boy!”

Leonard stumbles, managing to catch himself but not before he slams into the wall, the side of his face connecting hard against the stone. He holds the side of his face, scrambling to leave the house as quickly as possible. He makes his way to the town, ducking into the local butcher shop to  fully examine his face.

“What’d he do this time?”

Len turns to see the butcher looking at him, holding out a wet rag. “Nothing as bad as what he usually does.” He takes the rag and presses it to his blackening eye and bruised cheek. The butcher raises a brow. “This time, he didn’t actually hit me.”

“Still.” The butcher moves around behind the counter. “So, what can I do for you today?”

“I’m going to need the best roast you got- apparently I am going to be cooking a marvelous meal for  _ Theodore _ .”

The butcher nods, wrapping up two types of meat, one the roast and the other a tenderloin, and hands them to Len. “Save the top one for yourself and your sister.”

“I will try.” Len places the rag on the counter, pulling out his wallet. He frowns when he finds that he doesn’t have enough money for both pieces of meat. “It seems like I’ll only be able to afford the one piece.” He grabs the roast and slips it into the bag he managed to grab before leaving.

“Don’t worry about it.” The butcher shoves the tenderloin into Len’s bag.

“I couldn’t.” Len tries to argue.

“I insist.” The butcher holds Len’s hands to keep him from removing the meat.

Len looks up at him, sighing before giving him a small smile. “You are too kind.”

“Someone’s gotta look after you.”

Len smiles, exiting the shop to get the rest of his supplies. He doesn’t miss the worried looks people give him but he ignores them, trying to make his money go as far as possible. He’s given very little to buy things every two weeks and Lewis doesn’t compensate for the price increases that  occur.Len rubs a hand over his face, finding he’s down to one gold coin and a couple silver pieces. With a heavy sigh, he puts the necklace back. It’s quite elegant- a gold chain attached to a gold pendant with a ruby setting. Lisa would love it, but of course, he doesn’t have the four gold coins for it and he does too much stealing for Lewis that he doesn’t even want to think about doing such a thing.

“See something you like?” The vendor asks.

“For Lisa but I don’t have the coin for it,” Len says, gripping his bag strap in his hands. “Even though I know you would give me some kind of discount, I still don’t have the three gold  and four silver you’d ask for.”

“Six silver.” The vendor corrects. “How much you short?”

“Try two gold pieces short.”

“Ah. Yeah. I couldn’t give it to you that cheap.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to.” Len turns and leaves, deciding it’d be best not to even tempt himself, no matter how much Lisa would love it. Some things will just have to wait. Len stretches his money as far as he can, grateful that the local vendors are nice and help Len out when they can. Len is just glad that he got everything he needs with one silver and two bronze coins to spare.

Len makes his way back home, silently groaning when he hears his father and step-mother calling for him. “Coming!” He hollers, ducking into the kitchen to deposit his purchases.

Lisa looks up from where she’s helping Baez prepare lunch. “How much?” She asks.

“Just one silver and two bronze.” Len takes the coins out and adds them to their small coin bag.

“Is that enough?” Baez looks up at him.

Len shakes his head. “No. Not yet.”

Lisa hands him several trays. “We only have a week left.”

“I know Lisa.” Len looks over to see Baez fidget. “We’re going to get him back Shawna;  we’re family and I will not let that man tear us apart.”

Baez gives a small nod. Len lets out a sigh when he hears his name being called again, heading up the stairs. He doesn’t miss the way his father and step-mother are watching him like a hawk. “About time.” Stacy grumbles, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder.

“Where were you?” Ingrid, his step-mother, demands.

“I went to the market to get a few things for dinner tonight.” Len tells her as he sets each of  their trays down in front of them.

“Hope you weren’t getting into any fights.” Stacy says, eyeing his face. “Last thing we need is you tarnishing our family name.”

Len bites his tongue to keep from snapping that she was not part of his family nor did he consider her or her mother to be family. “Of course not.” He grits his teeth.

“Then where did you get the black eye?” Laurel asks.

Len looks over at her, finding her to be more bearable than her sister and mother. “I...tripped down the stairs and hit my face against the wall.” He doesn’t miss the way Lewis’ eyes burn into the back of his head.

“You clumsy oaf. You better not have broken anything.” Ingrid snarls.

“Of course not.” Len steps back from the table, waiting over in the corner. He watches them eat, though his eyes rarely leave Lewis. He watches his father take several bites of his food before dropping his fork and clutches his chest. “Father?” Len steps over to him as he falls out of the chair.  “Father!”

Everyone leaps up and over to Lewis. Len rolls him over, noticing that he’s no longer breathing. “Lewis!” Ingrid cries. “Lewis no!”

“Hello?” Theodore's voice filters in from downstairs. He emerges from the stairwell, pausing when he sees everyone kneeling on the ground. “What is-”He makes his way over to them, freezing as he stares down at Lewis’ unmoving body. ”Father?” Theodore watches Len stand and back away, his expression neutral. “You.” Theodore snarls, shoving Len. “You did this!”

Len stumbles back into the table, glaring at Theodore. “I did nothing.”

“Lies! Everyone know that you despised our father!”

“Maybe I did but I’d never kill him!”

“Who also would stand to gain something from his death?” Theodore raises a brow as Lisa and Baez come running up from the kitchen and Hartley comes from upstairs. “No one but you and your whore sister.”

Len curls his hands into fists. “Don’t you dare call her that.”

“Why not? All the men swoon over her and they’d only do that if they knew how good she is in bed.”

Len pushes away from the table, taking a step towards Theodore. “Say another word and so help me.”

Theodore’s lips curl into a smirk. “Maybe you didn’t kill your father, but she did.Or you put her up to it and she willingly went along. So, maybe instead of punishing you,” He takes a step closer to Len, his smirk widening. “I’ll punish her instead and it won’t be the normal kind of punishment.”

Len punches Theodore square in the face, sending the other stumbling back before punching him again in the gut. “You even think about laying a hand on her and I’ll gut you, you bastard!”

Hartley rushes over, holding Len back before he could do any more damage. Theodore straightens up,glaring at Len. “How dare you, you pathetic peasant?” He strikes Len hard across the face. ”I shall have you whipped for your insolence! Take him outside!” He commands Hartley.

The younger servant hesitates, looking down at Len whose head is turned to the side and is glaring down at the ground before leading him outside. Len doesn’t say anything as Hartley removes his shirt and ties him to the post. He doesn’t look up when he hears Theodore come outside. He just grits his teeth and clutches the wood he’s bound to as Theodore brings the whip down hard against his back. Len wishes he could focus on something else,  _ anything _ else, but his fault for having to count everything and be meticulous in that regard makes it impossible for him to focus on anything but the whip and the pain it leaves in it’s wake. A few tears roll down his cheeks but he doesn’t cry out, silently counting the lashes. Twelve. Fifteen. Eighteen. Twenty-one. Relief comes after the twenty-fifth lash, when Len can hear Theodore’s light panting. Len’s surprised Theodore made it past ten with how heavy the whip is.

Len can hear footsteps in the loose gravel approach him before a hand tightly grabs him by his hair, yanking his head back. Len hisses, looking up at Ingrid’s hardened face. “You are not to leave the house under any circumstance. Do you  understand?”

“Yes.” Len hisses when Ingrid’s nails bite into his scalp.

“I said,” She tugs harder, pulling him back and puts more strain on his arms. “Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am. He says through gritted teeth.

“Good.” She shoves him away. “Now get out of my sight.” She spins on her heels and disappears back into the house, ordering Lisa and Baez to follow her.

Hartley moves over to Len, quickly untying him and takes him up to their shared attic room. He gently lays Len down on the bed, quickly grabbing a bowl and fills it with water. He moves back over to the bed, sitting down next to Len as Len grabs a pillow, pressing his face into in and silently cries. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” Hartley says as he begins to clean Len’s back. ”I know what he said was horrible, but you were stupid to punch him. Twice, no less.”

Len turns his head to the side, his eyes a little red as a few tears roll down his cheeks. “That was my sister he was talking about.”

“I know but there were better ways you could have handled that.” Hartley dips the rag into the bowl, ringing it out before continuing to clean Len’s back. Len slightly hisses, looking away. “One of these days I fear you’re going to get yourself killed because you’re protecting your sister.”

“That’s fine by me. I’d rather it be me than her.”

Hartley shakes his head, disagreeing with Len but doesn’t say anything more as he finishes patching Len up.

Over the next couple days, while Len’s back is still healing, Theodore likes to come up behind Len and press against his back to remind Len of his place. Sometimes Stacy will join in and terrorize Len even more. Laurel feels bad for him and Lisa and helps them out when she can and when the others won’t see her. Two days later, a letter from the king arrives, Lisa thanks the courier, turning it over in her hands. Baez and Laurel look up as Lisa makes her way over to them. “What’s that?” Baez asks.

“It’s a letter from the king.” Lisa tells them.

“The king?” Baez gasps.

“You should take that to my mother.” Laurel says.

Lisa nods in agreement, leaning her broom up against a wall and hurries up the stairs to the dining room. “Ma’am?”

Ingrid glances over at her. “What is it child?”

“There’s a letter here for you.”

“Just leave it with the others.” Ingrid says dismissively.

“Yeah stupid.” Stacy says. “Don’t you know not to interrupt our meal?”

Lisa slightly glares at her. “But it’s from the king.”

“The king?!” Stacy jumps up, tearing the letter from Lisa’s hands. “Let me see that!” She rips off the seal, skimming over the words. “Mother! Look!” She thrusts the letter into her mother’s hand.

Ingrid takes the slightly crumpled paper, reading over it. “It says that there is to be a ball tonight in honor of the Princess’s return and by royal decree, every eligible man and woman is to attend.”

Lisa looks over as Len comes to stand next to her. “Lenny, did you hear that?” She asks.

“I did.” Len looks at her. “And I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“Her? Go to the ball?” Stacy cackles.

Len turns to look at her. “And why not?” Stacy stops, looking at him. “The letter does say ‘every eligible man and woman’.”

“That may be so.” Theodore slowly rises from his seat. “But you are not permitted to leave this house and that include this.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on going.” Len looks at him. ”Just because I can’t go doesn’t mean she can’t.” He turns to look at Ingrid. “It is the royal decree.”

Ingrid looks Lisa over, glancing back down at the letter. “Well,I suppose you can go.” Lisa beams at that while Stacy protests. “Provided you complete all your chores.”

“Of course.” Lisa nods, ecstatically.

“That includes sweeping all the rooms, mopping the floors, dusting, clean all the drapes and tapestries, wash all the windows upstairs and downstairs, tending to the garden, clean all the chimneys as well as sweep and clean the terrace.”

Lisa’s smile fades a little. “Of course.”

“And you find something suitable to wear.”

“I will.” Lisa turns and leaves with Len. Once they’re down in the kitchen, Lisa looks at Len. “I don’t think I’ll have a dress ready in time.”

Len puts his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “You just worry about finishing your chores.” Lisa looks at her brother, slowly nodding. “Good.” He looks over at Hartley and Baez. “You two help her out.” He tells them before making his way up to his room.

“And where are you going?” Hartley calls after him.

“To get everything ready.” Len shuts himself away in his room the rest of the day, finishing a dress he’s been making for Lisa.

After dinner, Lisa, Hartley, and Baez head up to check up on Len. “Lenny,” Lisa calls. “What are-” She gasps as Len stands up, holding up the completed dress. “Len, is that…”

“Yes.” He smiles as she takes it and holds it against herself. “Looks like you’ll be going to the ball after all.”

Lisa throws her arms around Len’s neck and hugs him. “Thank you.” She and Baez hurry off to get changed. Hartley looks at Len. “That’s what you’ve been doing all day?”

“More like finishing it up.” Len packs away his sewing supplies. “I only wish to give my sister the best.”

Once Lisa’s dressed, she hurries downstairs to meet up with Stacy, Theodore and Laurel. Stacy stares as Lisa joins them. “Where did you get that?” She asks.

“I made it.” Lisa tells her, not wanting to tell them the truth that Len made it.

“You don’t expect us to take you in that, do you?” Theodore asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is acceptable.” Lisa looks down at herself. The dress Len’s made is very modest, the corset shows off her curves and the skirt has underwiring that makes the dress drape away from her; the bodice covers majority of her chest and the long sleeves cover her arms.

Stacy makes her way over to Lisa, eyeing her. “You’re right but I think there are some improvements that can be made.” Before Lisa can say anything, Stacy lashes out and begins ripping and tearing at the fabric.

Laurel and Lisa both gasp as Theodore joins Stacy. “You’re right sister.” He helps pulls and tear the dress apart. “This is definitely an improvement.”

Laurel watches with slight horror as Lisa’s dress is left in tatters. Ingrid makes her way over to them. “That’s enough.” She looks over at Lisa. “Since it seems you don’t have a suitable dress, it looks like you’ll have to stay put.”

Lisa slightly glares at them, her eyes tearing up. She runs off through the back and outside to her favorite oak tree. Baez, Hartley and Len all rush outside and over to her. “Lisa!” Len kneels down next to her. “What happened?”

“They ruined it Lenny.” Lisa looks up at him, her eyes red from crying. “They ruined it on purpose. Now I can’t go to the ball.”

Len takes in Lisa’s shredded dress, feeling slightly peeved that he spent months making it only to have it ruined in seconds. Then, a thought comes to his mind. “Come with me.” He grabs her arm and drags her back inside and up to her room. He begins rummaging through her closet.

Lisa slightly frowns, wiping away her tears. “Len, I don’t have any dresses in there suitable for a ball.”

“Actually, you do.” He pulls out a wrapped item, setting it on the bed and unwraps it. Lisa gasps as Len pulls out a literal princess dress similar to the one he made but this one doesn’t have any sleeves and has more of an A-line bodice. The gems and beads of the intricate beadwork glitter in the light, making the gold fabric glitter even more. “I was actually hoping to save it for your wedding.” He leads Lisa over to the mirror, holding it in front of her. “It was our mother’s.”

Lisa looks at him in surprise. “It was?”

“Yes. Now, hurry and get changed- we have a ball to get you to.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sara let’s out a heavy sigh, taking a long pull from her glass of wine. She was expecting to be relaxing when she got home, not having to deal with attending a ball set up by her mother and father in order to find a suitable partner. Luckily, the kingdom is very accepting of her and she can get away with wearing a suit instead of a dress. She glances sideways when an arm is thrown around her shoulders. “Mick, please don’t tell me you’re already drunk?”

“Not yet I’m not.” Mick finishes off his drink, waving for another.

“You know, the point of this is for both of us to find people to marry.”

“I am.”

Sara grabs the new glass of wine before Mick even touches it, turning to properly face her half-brother. “I’m serious. Father is not pleased that you’ve yet to find someone and he has plans for an arranged marriage in place.”

Mick scowls at that. “He can’t do that.”

“He is our king and father, so yes he can.” Sara turns her attention back to the ball, watching the people dance and mingle.

“And what about you?” Mick plucks his glass from her. “Does he have any arrangements in place for you?”

“Not yet but you are several years my senior.” Sara scans the crowd. “I just…”

“Haven’t found the right person?” Mick guesses.

Sara nods. As she turns to scan the crowd again, her eyes land on someone making their way up the stairs, her breath seeming to catch in her throat as the beautiful woman in the most stunning dress stands at the top of the stairs, looking around. The way her hair is braided up and around her head almost looks as if she’s wearing a crown. Sara hands Mick her half drink, making her way over to the woman.

Lisa looks up as a beautiful blond woman dressed in pants with a decorative overcoat makes her way over to her. The music in the background changes as the blond bows. “Can I have this dance?” She asks Lisa.

Lisa blushes. “Of course.” She offers her hand and lets the blond lead her onto the dance floor. Lisa notices that no one else is on the dance floor and everyone’s gaze is trained on them. She feels her face and skin start to heat up, not used to being the center of attention.

“Don’t worry about them.” Sara tells Lisa, placing a hand on her waist. “Just focus on me.”

Lisa nods, one hand resting on Sara’s shoulder while her other lifts up her dress just enough to move around without stepping on it. Sara leads Lisa into a waltz, Lisa unable to look away from Sara and everything around them seems to fall away.

Stacy and Theodore try to look around the other patrons standing in front of them to get a better look at who the princess is dancing with. “Is she dancing with a woman?” Theodore asks with some disgust.

“The princess does like women.” Stacy says with just as much disgust.

Theodore gets a good look at Lisa, slightly frowning. “She does look familiar though.”

Ingrid moves closer, looking at them as well. “Yes. She does look familiar.” She frowns as she watches them start to dance away from them and towards the garden.

Sara leads Lisa further into the garden and further away from the ball. Sara takes Lisa over to one of the fountains, sitting them both down. Lisa fidgets with her dress, nervous and unsure about what to do. Sara takes Lisa’s hand in hers. “You seem nervous.” She says.

“Maybe just a little.” Lisa looks up at her.

“Have I done something to make you so?”

“No.” Lisa takes Sara’s hand in both of hers. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“That’s good.” Sara smiles.

“”It’s just,” Lisa looks away. “I’ve never been in such an….intimate situation with another woman before.”

Sara slightly frowns, pulling her hand back. “I’m sorry. I just assumed-”

“Oh no!” Lisa takes hold of Sara’s hand once again. “I am interested in you that way.” A look of relief passes over Sara’s face. “It’s just, as I’ve said, I’ve never been in an intimate situation before. Especially not with another woman.”

Sara removes her hand from Lisa’s, cupping Lisa’s face. “You are one of the few people who has caught my eye. Though,” She gently caresses her cheek with her thumb. “You are far more beautiful than most.”

Lisa blushes, leaning in closer when Sara leans in for a kiss. Lisa startles when the clock tower chimes midnight. Sara slightly laughs. “You seem to be easily startled.”

Lisa smiles, glancing over Sara’s shoulder and notices Baez standing a ways away, waving frantically at her. “I have to go.” Lisa stands up, heading towards Baez.

“Wait.” Sara catches Lisa’s arm. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“It’s not that, but I really do have to go.” Lisa pulls away from Sara, picking up her dress and run towards Baez.

“Wait! I don’t even know your name!” Sara hurries after them.

Baez leads Lisa through the ball, out to the front and down the stairs. As they run down the stairs, Lisa slightly stumbles down them, catching herself but one of her slippers coming off. Lisa pauses, turning to go get it. “No leave it.” Baez pulls Lisa towards the carriage. “We have to go.”

Lisa reluctantly leaves it, climbing into the carriage. When they return, they hurriedly change and put everything away. Once Stacy Ingrid, Theodore and Laurel are all asleep, Lisa can’t help the smile that’s on her face.

“Something good must have happened.” Len says as he puts away some towels.

“Yes it did. I meet the most beautiful woman.” Lisa says. Len turns to look at his sister, grinning when he notices the dreamy look in her eyes. “When we danced, it was as if we were meant for each other.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Lisa sighs. “Too bad I didn’t get her name.” She lays down in her bed.

Len raises a brow at that. “You didn’t get her name?”

“We had to leave and return before Ingrid got back and noticed we were gone.”

Len shakes his head, pulling up the covers. “At least you enjoyed yourself.”

“I wish you could have been there.” Lisa looks up at him, grabbing his hand. Len looks at her. “You’ll find someone; I know you will.” she turns over in her bed, getting comfortable.

“I hope so.” Len says quietly, shutting Lisa’s door as he leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

Sara makes her way to Mick’s room, barging in while clutching the slipper in her hand. Mick looks up from where he’s perched on his bed. “I need your help.” Sara says.

“What with?”

“Finding the maiden I danced with.”

Mick arches a brow. “And why do you need help with that?”

“Because she left before I could get her name.” Mick slightly chuckles and Sara glares at him. “It’s not funny Mick. I’m not like you who would prefer to keep my one night stands nameless.”

“I know. That’s why it’s funny.” Mick stands up. “So, how do you suppose we find your maiden?”

“She did leave this behind.” Sara holds up the slipper.

Mick plucks the slipper from her hand, turning it over. “So, we what? Have every maiden in the kingdom try it on?”

“Something like that.” Sara takes the slipper back.

“Well you have fun with that.” Mick turns and heads back to his bed. 

“You’re not coming with?” Sara raises a brow. “I thought you liked a good chase.”

Mick turns to look at his half-sister. “I do, but this isn’t my chase.”

Sara shakes her head. “Suite yourself.” She leaves his room, heading back to her own where she finds the captain of the guard waiting for her. “Nyssa, prepare the horses.” She says as she changes out of her formal wear and into something more comfortable.

“Certainly. Where are we going?”

“To every household with an eligible maiden.” Sara turns to look at Nyssa, the other giving her a questioning look. “I found the right woman Nyssa.”

Nyssa smiles. “That is wonderful news.”

“Indeed, but I fear she left before I could even get her name and all that she left was this.” Sara shows Nyssa the slipper.

The captain examines it, looking up at Sata. “Then we shall search every household until you find her.”

Sara smiles. “You are truly the best.”

They set out that night, going all through the night and well into the next day. News about what they were doing spreads like wildfire. Stacy rolls her eyes, picking up her utensils to cut into her meal. “It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

“I agrees.” Theodore grabs the salt, sprinkling it over his eggs. “Two women nor two men should not be allowed to be together.” Len tries to resist glaring from where he’s standing.

“Why not?” Laurel looks at them. “If they love each other, why should they not be allowed to be together?”

“It is sinful.” Ingrid hisses, making Laurel look over at her. “And if any child of mine was like that, I’d disown them.” Laurel turns her gaze back to her plate. “Though if one of you two were to marry the Princess.” She looks between Stacy and Laurel, though her gaze lingers on Stacy. “I guess I couldn’t be too angry.”

Len looks over when Hartley comes in. “Madam?” Hartley looks at Ingrid. “They are on their way.”

Ingrid nods, looking at her daughters. “This is a golden opportunity, so don’t mess it up.” Laurel and Stacy stand, leaving to go make themselves presentable. Ingrid rounds on Len and Hartley. “You two, as well as the other mongrels, are to remain down in the kitchen. Do I make myself clear?”

Len gives her a hard look. “Perfectly.”

Ingrid glares before waiving. “Come Theodore.”

When Theodore passes by Len, he stares him up against the wall, pressing on Len’s still healing back. Len hisses, glaring at him. “Do be a good boy for once.” Theodore chides. “I wouldn’t want to have to whip you again.”

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” Len snarls.

Theodore smirks, releasing Len and following after his mother. Len glares after him. “I’ll kill him. One of these days.”

Hartley shakes his head, following Len down to the kitchen. “One of these days.” He mutters.

Lisa and Baez look up when the two men descend the stairs. “What did she say?” Lisa asks.

“That we are to stay put.” Len picks up an apple and begins slicing it.

“But the decree says that every eligible woman is to-”

“I know that!” Len slams the knife down onto the cutting board. “I knew that Ingrid is a horrible woman who is unfair but as much as we hate it, we have to listen to her!” Lisa stares at her brother because he’s never raised his voice at her before. Len scrubs a hand over his face. “Sorry Lisa. I just…”

Lisa moves around the table and wraps her arms around him. “I know Lenny.” She says quietly, her head resting on his shoulder. “You’re just looking to protect me.”

Len wraps his arms around her shoulders and holds her close. “I never want to see you get hurt.”

Sara stifles a yawn as they make their way to the next house. Nyssa looks over at her, a worried expression in her face. “We can head back to the castle for a little while before resuming our search.”

“No.” Sara shakes her head. “I will rest once I find her.” She looks down at the slipper. “I let her get away once; I’m not going to let that happen again.”

“Very well.” Nyssa says, knowing that it’ll be near impossible to get Sara to change her mind. She looks out the window as the carriage comes to a stop. “We are here.” She hops out and helps Sara out. The pair make their way over to the door where Ingrid is waiting.

“Your highness.” Ingrid bows. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you to my home.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Sara and Nyssa follow Ingrid into the dining room where Stacy, Laurel and Theodore are waiting.

“I would like to introduce you to my children.” Ingrid motions to them. “This is Stacy, my eldest daughter; Laurel, my other daughter; and my son, Theodore.”

Each bow in their respective order. Sara nods and smiles, passing the slipper off to Nyssa. “Nyssa, if you would please.”

Nyssa nods, having Stacy sit down and try on the slipper. At first glance it looks as if the slipper fits but upon closer inspection, they find that Stacy is forcing her foot into the slipper. As Nyssa tries to figure out if the slipper actually fits, Sara hides her yawn behind her hand. Ingrid looks over at her. “Would you like a cup of tea or something to eat?”

“Yes. That would be appreciated.” Sara says.

Ingrid nods, sending one of the other servants down to the kitchen. Lisa looks up as one of the field hands makes his way over to her, telling her what Ingrid wants. “Thank you.” She begins preparing two trays, one with the biscuits and crackers and the other with five sets of cups and tea.

Len glances over as Lisa picks up the two trays. “Do you want any help?”

“No, I got it.” Lisa flashes him a smile before making her way up the stairs. Lisa rolls her eyes as she watches Stacy argue with the captain of the guard. She pries her eyes away and focuses on preparing the cups of tea.

Sara tries to not let Theodore’s persistent ‘flirting’ get to her and she pulls in a deep breath to keep from punching him out. She welcomes the distraction of a cup being handed to her. “Thank you.” She looks up at the servant and freezes because it’s  _ her _ . “It’s you.”

Lisa glances up at Sara, gasping as she recognizes the princess and the cup slips from both their hands, shattering across the floor. Stacy, Nyssa, Laurel and Ingrid stop and turn their attention to the pair. Ingrid snarls and chides Lisa for being clumsy and incompetent. Lisa doesn’t hear, staring at Sara. “You...you’re the...the princess?”

“Yes. And you,” Sara looks Lisa over, taking in her worn, maid outfit. “You are a maid.”

Lisa ducks her head at that. “Yes, well-”

“Don’t mind her.” Theodore tells Sara, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s just a lowly servant.”

Sara shoots him a glare before looking over at Nyssa. “If you could.”

“Certainly.” Nyssa walks over to Lisa, having her sit down before slipping the slipper on. She grins when the slipper fits perfectly.

“There must be some mistake.” Ingrid says, storming over to Lisa.

“Surely you can see that the slipper fits perfectly.” Nyssa looks at Ingrid. “Or are you blinded by your hatred for her that you cannot see the simple truth that is right in front of you?”

Ingrid stares at Nyssa. “How dare you? I raised that child since before she could walk and she goes behind my back and disobey me.”

Lisa gapes at her step-mother while Nyssa and Sara glare at her.

“‘By royal decree, whomever this here slipper fits shall be hence wed to Princess Sara.” Everyone turns to see Len make his way over to Lisa, the other slipper in hand.”That is what is said.” Len turns to look at Ingrid, not surprised to see her seething. “And she didn’t disobey you because you said she could go to the ball if she had a dress and she did.” Len hands the slipper over to Lisa. “So that means she’s going to be married to the princess.”

“Oh Len.” Lisa sets the slipper down on the table before pulling her brother into a hug.

Len smiles, smirking when he notices that Ingrid looks ready to burst. Sara looks at their step-mother with a stern expression. “He is correct- my father decreed that I should not rest nor settle for anyone less than the amazing woman I danced with and I have found her.” Sara raises a brow aa Ingrid looks like she wants to protest.

“Well...but she is nothing more than a servant.” Ingrid says in a vain attempt to prevent Sara from leaving with Lisa.

“That does not matter to me.” Sara replies simply, looking over at Lisa. “She is the only person that’s interested me.”

Lisa ducks her head, her cheeks flushing. Len smiles fondly at her. Sara smiles as well, reaching over and takes hold of Lisa’s hand. “Come my love. There is much to plan.”

Lisa looks up at Len, a trace of fear in her eyes- not for herself but for her brother. “But what about you Len?”

“Go Lise.” Len gently tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be fine. Besides,” He looks over at Sara. “You’ve found your Prince Charming.” 

Sara gives a coy smile at that. Lisa hugs her brother once more. “Promise you’ll stay out of trouble.”

“I promise.” Len watches Lisa grabs the dress before letting Sara lead her out of the house and into the carriage. Len’s not surprised by the beating and whipping he receives that night. Though he is surprised when Laurel comes up with a plate of food in hand. “If your mother found out about this, I fear you’d be whipped as well.” He tries to sit up from where he’s lying on his stomach but the pain keeps him where he is. “That as well as being in a boy’s chambers, alone with him while he’s practically naked.”

“Good thing she’ll never find out that you don’t fancy women.” Laurel sets the plate down in front of him, sitting next to him.

Len eyes her as he sits up on his elbows.”How do you-”

“I overheard you tell Lisa.” Laurel looks at him. “Worry not; I won’t tell a soul.”

“Good. If your mother ever found out about  _ that _ ,” A shudder runs down his spine. “I fear that this would be considered light treatment.” Laurel makes a noise of agreement as Len digs into the food. “Thank you. For the food.”

Laurel lightly huffs. “Yes, well I wasn’t going to let them starve you simply because you helped your sister.”

“Speaking of,” Len glances over at her. “Where are the two horrible creatures you call a brother and sister?”

Laurel laughs at that. “Stacy is off planning with mother on how they can seduce the prince and theodore is off brooding about how the princess could chase Lisa over him.” Len gives a light chuckle at that. “Though, to be honest, I fear he’s going to take his frustrations out on you.”

Len catches Laurel’s worried expression. “Don’t worry-I can take care of myself.”

“I know that but he’s madder than I’ve ever seen him. What if instead of whipping you, he beats you with an iron bar?”

“Laurel-”

“What is he heats up the bar first, then hit you with it? What if he beats you with a hot, iron bar, then proceed to whip you afterward? What if-”

“Laurel,” Len says sternly, sitting up despite the pain to grab her shoulders. “One, Theodore is not strong enough to lift an iron bar, let alone beat me with one. And second, I know how to handle him as well as myself. I’ll be fine. I’ve endured much worse, trust me.”

Laurel’s eyes trail down from Len’s face to his chest and arms, surprised by the amount of scars that weren’t made from a whip or everyday life. Len notices Laurel staring and becomes super self-conscious. He grabs his discarded shirt and pulls it on. “All these times your father took you out to the barn, he wasn’t teaching you how to care for the animals, was he?” Laurel’s eyes move back up to his face.

Len avoids her gaze. “I’ve had worse. I know how to take care of myself.” He climbs under the sheets, keeping his back to Laurel.

She watches him for a moment, waiting to see if he’ll deny her claim, but when he doesn’t, she sighs, picking up the plate. “Goodnight Leonard.”

Len doesn’t reply, listening to her retreat down the stairs, closing his eyes as tears silently roll down his face.

A few nights later, the king and his wives march down the dark corridor. “Richard, can’t this wait till morning?” The king’s blond haired wife, Dinah, asks.

“That boy needs to take on his responsibilities and if he’s not going to choose a suitable partner, than by God, he’s going to have that arranged marriage.” Richard growls.

“But it’s not love.” The redheaded woman, Astrid, says. “He needs to find someone he loves.”

“He needs a good whipping, that’s what he needs.” Richard marches into Mick’s room. “Mick! Get up!” To say that he’s mad to find Mick’s bed empty is an understatement- he’s furious. “Guards!” He bellows. “Find him!”

“Oh, not this again.” Astrid rests her head in her hands, disappointed that her son has yet again run away.


	4. Chapter 4

Len wakes up early the following morning, carefully stretching as his back is still healing from a few days ago. Len makes his way down to the kitchen, finding only Baez there. He let’s out a sigh, not sure he’ll ever get used to not having his sister around, but she’s in a better place and that makes all of this bearable. He decides to check up on their orchard to collect some fresh apples. As he sits on the ground, the royal guard thunders past him on their horses. Len raises a brow because the royal guard hardly ever uses that road. He shrugs it off, collecting some good apples in his apron and heads back towards the house. As he climbs up through the garden, he hears on of the horses neigh and he glances over and sees a cloaked figure riding his horse. “Oh no you don’t.” Len grabs several apples and let’s the others fall to the ground. He rushes towards the cloaked figure, taking aim and chucks the apple, hitting the figure in the head.

They groan, falling off the horse. “You thief!” Len pelts them with another apple. “How dare you try to steal my horse?” Len hits him with another apple.

“I was just borrowing ‘em.” The other, a man based on his voice, says.

“A likely story.” Len pelts him in the head again.

The man lets out an annoyed grunt, pulling back his hood and Len’s eyes widen as he drops to the ground. “Forgive me, Your Highness, for I did not know it was you.”

Mick raises a hand to his sore forehead. “Clearly, is your aim is anything to go by.”

“And for that I know I must be punished.” Len stares at the ground.

Mick looks him over, noticing how Len’s hands slightly clench and his whole body tenses, as if expecting a beating. His eyes trace over the new bruise peaking out from his shirt. “Well then,” He mounts the horse again, making Len glance up at him. “Speak of this to no one.” Len nods, his gaze dropping back down to the ground. Mick unties a pouch from his belt and drops it in front of Len, the coins inside clinking together. “For your silence and troubles.”

Len stares at the pouch as the prince rides off. Len picks up the pouch, looking inside. His jaw drops as he gawks at the twenty gold and twenty-five silver pieces inside. He quickly ties it to his own belt, concealing it beneath his clothing as he gathers up the apples. He hurries inside, finding Hartley awake and helping Baez. They both glance up when Len practically runs inside.

Hartley frowns when he notices a fresh bruise on Len’s neck that no doubt continues down to his shoulder. “What was it? His first?” He asks as he gently traces over the darker skin.

Len pulls away from the other’s touch, the bruise still sensitive. Ever since Sara took off with Lisa, Theodore has been drinking more and thus hitting Len more. He’s reminding Len more and more of his father and he doesn’t like it. “He was drunk.”

Hartley raises a brow. “So? That doesn’t give him the right-”

“Just drop it ok?” Len meets Hartley’s gaze.

“Fine. Your funeral.” Hartley moves over to the other side of the kitchen to check on the eggs.

Baez looks at Len. “We’re just worried about you. He’s becoming more like your father and I fear that he might kill you one of these day, just like your father would have.”

“That’s not going to happen.”Len places his hand over hers and gives her a reassuring smile. “I would never leave you two to deal with them by yourselves. In fact, I’ll be able to reverse some of what they’ve done to our family.”

Baez’s brows knit together in confusion. “What are-” Her eyes widen.”You don’t mean….” She watches as Len pulls out the pouch and dumps all the coins into the table. Baez gasps. “Lord. Where did you get all those?”

“From an angle of mercy.” Len smiles at her. “I’m going to get Mark back.”

“Leonard!” Ingrid’s voice echoes down from upstairs.

“Coming!” Len calls, sliding the coins back into the pouch and secures it to his belt once more. He picks up the trays they have prepared.

“But she’d never let him come home.”

Len looks at her. “If my father could sell him to cover his debt, then this should surely be enough to bring him back. This is our home too- I will not sit back and let her do whatever she wishes.” He hurries up the stairs and not surprised to see Theodore nursing a drink. “Morning Ingrid, Stacy, Laurel. Theodore.” Len sets their food down, trying keep his voice level as he addresses Theodore- he doesn’t want to give the other the satisfaction that he’s getting to Len.

“Looks like you slept well.” Laurel says.

Len flashes her a smile. “Yes I did sleep well.”

“I’m sure you did.” Theodore gives a coy smile that’s more of a smirk in Len’s opinion and it sends shivers down his spine.

Len ignores him as he turns to look at Ingrid. “If there is nothing else, I’ll be on my way.”

As he heads for the door, Ingrid grabs his arm and stops him. Len looks at her, as Ingrid looks him over. “What is it, exactly, that you want?”

Len blinks as he stares as her because he’s positive that if he tells her the truth- that he wants her and her horrible son and daughter to leave so that he and those he considers his actual family may have peace at best- but he fears that he’ll be whipped and beaten. Instead, he goes for another truth. “Simply to see that my sister has the best life possible and I did that. Now,” Len glances over the others, his gaze lingering on Laurel before returning to Ingrid. “I just wish for the best, for myself and my family.”

Ingrid eyes him for a moment before releasing him. “Well then, I expect this house to be cleaned by the time we get back.”

“Yes ma’am.” Len hurries off down to the kitchen. He and Hartley wait until they hear them leave before leaving themselves.

“You two have lost your marbles.” Baez tells them before they leave.

“She’s not wrong.” Hartley says as he watches Ingrid, Stacy and Theodore down in the market.

“I never said she was.” Len strips down to his undergarments. “Hand me the suite.”

Harley shakes his head, grabbing the courtier suit and hands it off to Len. He tries to not stare at the other, but Len’s quite toned from all the work he’s done over the years.

“Stop it.” Len says, pulling on the pants.

Hartley’s eyes flicker up to his face. “I’m just enjoying the view.” Len gives him a pointed look. “What? You’re handsome and well toned. You can’t expect me not to look.” Hartley says, though he does turn away to mess with one of his inventions.

“You know I don’t like it.” Len pulls on his shirt, standing in the mirror to make sure everything looks good.

Hartley looks over, noticing Len continuing to mess with the clothes. He smiles as he moves over, grabbing Len’s hands to settle them. “Enough. You look fine.”

“It’s not that.” Hartley looks at Len with a raised brow. “I…” Len looks away. “Even under all this fabric I still feel...exposed.”

“Leonard,” Hartley gently lifts Len’s head up to look at him. “You’re the only one who can do this, and you’re the only crazy bastard who’ll do it flawlessly.”

Len slightly laughs. “And only you can cheer someone up by calling them a bastard.”

Hartley smiles back. “Well, you are. Now, go get us our boy.”


	5. Chapter 5

After leaving the house with the servant. Mick rides straight into the forest, feeling confidant that he’s lost the guards. But something about that servant just...Mick’s not even sure he can explain it but if he had more time he’d have struck around to find out what was wrong. Mick’s pulled from his thoughts as he stumbles across a robbery in progress. An older man holding a staff is running around, yelling at the thieves while his attendants sit back and do nothing, looking very timid.

“Please! There is nothing here!” The old man declares, turning to see one of the thieves grab a long, metal container. “No! Not that!”

Another thief glances over in his direction, whistling. “It’s the royal guard!”

A sinking feeling settles in Mick’s stomach as he hears horse hooves pounding on the ground in the distance. “For fuck’s sake.” Mick rides closer to the scene, watching the last of the thieves disappear.

“The painting.” The old man gasps. He looks over and notices Mick. “Please sir! You have to stop him! That man there!” He points to the thief climbing up a hill.

“The guard’s ‘ll help you.” Mick moves to ride off but the old man steps in his way. “Move or I’ll run you over.” Mick grunts.

“Please. It is, my life.” The old man pleads.

Mick glances back to see the guards riding closer, then up to the thief’s retreating form. “Fuck it.” Mick takes off after the thief, who is also on horseback. Mick chases after him, riding close enough that Mick jumps off his horse and onto the thief’s. “Give me that.” Mick reaches for the painting but the thief elbows him.

Mick grabs at the reins, making the horse rear up and make him fall off.

“Bastard,” The thief spits, swinging the container at Mick.

Mick dodges, grabbing it and jerks it towards him. The thief stumbles and Mick clocks him square in the jaw, making the thief let go. The thief scurries off, holding the side of his face. Mick grins in satisfaction, noticing two guards make their way over to him. “Well shit.”

Mick sighs as he mounts his horse, riding back to the old man. He spots Nyssa waiting with the man. “Mick,” She gives him a pointed look. “You promised.”

“I know.” Mick hands the container over to the old man. “I lied.” Mick dismounts his horse, watching as Nyssa strides over to him. “I just thought I’d enjoy my life before letting my father give it away to some arrogant princess.”

“Then why on earth did you stop?” The old man looks at him as he pulls the painting out of the container.

“Well, suppose I lack...conviction, as my sister tells me. ‘Sides,” Mick looks at him. “You claimed that it was a matter of life and death.”

“A woman always is sire.” The old man unrolls the painting, revealing what would become to known as the Mona Lisa.

Mick looks over the man’s shoulder, huffing. “She laughs, as if she knows something I don’t.”

The old man shrugs. “A lady has many secrets- I merely painted one of them.”

Nyssa mounts her horse, looking at Mick. “Senior Da Vinci has been asked to be the castle’s artist in residence.”

Mick raises a brow. “Leonardo Da Vinci?”

“Michaelo Angelo was trapped under a ceiling in Rome; I’m merely a second choice.”

“Perhaps you’ll be my salvation.” Mick says, gripping Da Vinci’s shoulders.

Da Vinci flashes Nyssa a confused look. “Captain Nyssa, please do translate.”

Nyssa briefly looks between them. “Prince Mick suffers from an arranged marriage, among _other_ things.” She smirks as Mick turns to shoot her a dirty look.

“Ah. I see.”

“But we must be off now Mick.”

Mick grumbles but mounts the horse they brought along, bringing the horse he borrowed back to it’s house. As they ride up, Ingrid makes her way outside.

“Your highness.” She bows to Mick. “To what do we owe this great honor?”

“I’m returning your horse.” Mick waves to one of the guards, who brings the horse around back to the stable.

“Oh. Was it missing?”

Mick shrugs. “In a sense. I was borrowing it. Seemed to scare one of your servants- a young man with an impeccable aim.” Mick gives a small smile as he touches his forehead.

“He’s mute.” Ingrid says quickly.

“Really?” Mick raises a brow. “He spoke quite forcefully.”

Ingrid shrugs. “It comes and it goes.” Mick slightly narrows his eyes at that. “But, as always, your highness is welcome to anything he wishes.”

Mick opens his mouth when Theodore and Stacy stumble out of the door, followed by Laurel. “Oh, there you are.” Ingrid briefly looks at her children.

“Your highness.” All three of them say as they bow.

Mick looks each of them over, not really impressed by them. Ingrid turns to address Mick. “Your highness, may I introduce you to my daughter, Stacy Renaldi of the House of Gallant; my son, Theodore Bonicard of the House of Gallant. And Laurel.”

“Forgive me.” Mick forces a smile as he looks at them. “Ladies, it seems as if you’ve blossomed overnight and you, sir,” Mick gives Theodore a good once over. “You’ve seemed to have aged well.”

Ingrid strides over to Mick, petting his horse. “We look forward to your own engagement.”

Mick tries to keep his obvious disgust about it to a minimum, though his upper lip does curl up. “Yes. Well. There are some….new developments in that regards.” Mick watches Stacy and Theodore take several steps closer, his eyes drawn to the large gold broach on Stacy’s bodice. “Nice broach.”

“Why this old thing?” Mick resists rolling his eyes as Stacy practically gropes herself. “You’re too kind.”

Laurel doesn’t hide her eye rolling, crossing her arms over her chest. Nyssa smiles as she watches Laurel.

“These developments,” Ingrid draws Mick’s attention back to her. “I hope are for the best?”

“I hope so. Good day ladies, gentleman.” Mick nods at them before riding off.

As they make their way back to the castle, Len rushes up the courtyard of the castle. A set of guards keeps a handful of peasants from entering and as Len approaches them, he slows down to a walk. “Make way for the gentleman!” One of the guards says as the others move the peasants back to clear a path for him.

Len keeps his eyes down as he makes his way past them, glancing around at the other courtiers before heading towards the drawbridge leading to the castle. As he arrives at the bridge, he glances down and sees Mark in ragged clothes being forced into a cage with other criminals. He takes a moment to collect himself before rushing towards the wagons, stopping them as he addresses the man driving. “I wish to address the issue of this gentleman.” He points to Mark, who stares at him in disbelief. “He’s my servant and I wish to pay the debt against him.”

“You’re too late- he’s bought and payed for.” The driver says.

Len holds up this coin pouch. “I can pay you twenty gold and fifteen silver.”

“You can have me for that amount.” The driver urges the horse forward.

Len slightly glares, grabbing the reins and halting him. “I demand you release him at once, else I’ll take this matter up with the king.”

“The king’s the one who sold ‘em. He’s now the property of Gotham.”

“He is not property, you ill mannered tempered git.” Len snarls. The people watching them turn their attention to Mick as he rides in. Mick notices the scene and rides over. “Do you honestly think it’s right to chain people up like cattle? I demand you release him at once.”

“Get out of my way!” The driver yells, leaning in closer and Len prepares for a fight.

“You dare raise your voice to a courtier?” Mick says.

Len recognizes the voice, silently hating the world and whatever God there was that did this. “Your highness.” The driver says nervously as Len slowly turns to face Mick. “I...um...Forgive me sire. I-I meant no disrespect.” Len’s eyes slowly drift up to meet Mick’s, Len giving a little bow. Mick stares at Len as if nothing else in the world mattered. “It’s just...I was following orders.” The driver nervously explains. “It’s my job to take these criminals to the border to be handed off.”

Len scoffs, addressing Mick. “A servant is not a thief and those that are cannot help themselves.”

“Oh really?” Mick raises a brow, a sly smile forming across his lips. “By all means, enlighten us.”

Len pulls in a breath, stealing himself. “If you suffer your people to be ill-educated and their manners corrupted from infancy, and then punish them for those crimes which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?”

Mick’s smiles turns into a smirk as he looks over at the driver. “There you have it. Release him.”

“But sire-”

“I said,” Mick raises his voice, practically glaring at the driver. “Release him.”

“Yes sire.” The driver ducks his head and opens the cage.

Len hurries around to greet Mark, shoving the pouch into the driver’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“Better.” Mark looks at him. “Now that you’re here.”

Len smiles. “Prepare the horses and meet me at the bridge- we’ll leave at once.” He watches Mark hurry off before moving back around to give the prince a little bow. “Thank you, your highness.” Len continues to make his way towards the bridge.

Mick dismounts his horse and hurries after Len. “Have we meet?”

Len swallows the lumps in his throat. “I don’t believe so, your highness.”

“I swore I knew every courtier in this provenance.”

“Well, that’s probably because I’m..visiting my cousin.”

“Who?” Mick asks as he falls into step with Len.

“My cousin.”

“Yes, you said that. So, which one?”

Len glances over at Mick. “The only one I have.”

Mick scoffs. “Are you coy on purpose or are you always an allusive asshole?”

Len stops, staring at Mick. “Did you just…” Mick smirks. Len gives a little chuckle. “You are unbelievable.” He continues walking.

“So, what’s your name?” Mick continues after him.

“Why should I give you that courtesy when you just insulted me?”

“So,” Mick jumps ahead, walking backwards to look at Len. “Tell me your cousin’s name so I can go through them to find out who you are.” Len rolls his eyes, brushing past Mick. “Someone who can quote Thomas Moore is well worth effort.”

Len stops, turning to look at Mick in shock and amazement. “You’ve read _Utopia_?”

Mick shrugs. “Found it sentimental and dull.” Len’s not surprised, given the prince has never had a reputation for being much of a thinker, unlike his half-sister. “To tell the truth, the hovel and blythe of everyday rustics bore me.”

“So I guess, then, you don’t converse with many peasants.”

“Naturally no.”

Len clenches his jaw to keep from scowling. “Excuse me, sire, but there’s nothing ‘natural’ about it.” Len marches towards the bridge. “A country’s character is defined by it’s, ‘everyday rustics’ as you so eloquently put it. They are the legs you stand on and that position demands respect, not-”

“Am I to understand,” Mick steps in from of Len, making him look up at him. “That you find me arrogant?”

“To put it lightly.” Len flashes Mick a smile. “I mean, you gave one man his life back but did you even glance at the others?”

Mick stares in amazement as Len strides past him, hurrying to catch Len by the arm. “A name.” Len stops and looks at Mick. “Any name.”

Len heaves a sigh. “I-I fear the only name to leave you with is...Leo.” Len pulls his arm free and moves past him.

Mick smirks. “See?” He spins to face Len. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Len gives him a snide smile.

“Mick!” Astrid calls, catching both Len’s and Mick’s attention.

“Hello mother.” Mick sighs and Len’s eyes grow wide.

“The kind would like to have a word. Several, in fact.” Astrid says.

Len hurries off, disappearing into the crowd. Mick smiles sardonically. “He usually does. I’ll be right there.” Astrid smiles. Mick turns to look back at Len but he’s disappeared. Mick let’s out a little chuckle. “Cheeky little bastard.” Mick shakes his head as he follows his mother inside, finding Dinah and his father in the throne room- Dinah reading over a scroll that was no doubt about Sara’s wedding plans and his father stands over a map.

Richard looks up as they enter. “You sir, are restricted to the grounds.”

Mick laughs. “Putting me under house arrest?”

Richard slams his hands down onto the table. “Do _not_ mock me boy, for I am in a foul mood!” Mick rolls his eyes. “And I will have my way!”

“Or what? You’ll ship me off to Gotham to work in the mines like some criminal?” Mick moves around the table and sits down on the stairs leading up to the thrones. “And for what? Your fucking stupid agreement?”

“You are the crowned Prince of Central!”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Richard, sit down before you have a stroke.” Dinah says, not looking up from the scroll. “Really, you two.”

“Agreed.” Astrid makes her way over to them as Richard sits down. “Sweetheart, you were born a privilege and with that comes...specific obligations.”

Mick looks at her. “Forgive me mother, but marriage to a stranger does not sit well with me.”

Astrid gives him a sympathetic look. Richard turns to look at Mick. “You will marry Thea by the next full moon or else I’ll strike at you any way I can.”

“What will it be father? Hot oil or the rack? Or perhaps you’d prefer a nice whipping.”

Richard stands up, glaring. “I will simply deny you the crown and give it to Sara.”

“Agreed.” Mick stands up. “I don’t want it an’ she’ll be 21 in a little over a year so she can have it.”

“You’re 23 and have all the necessary knowledge and training that she lacks.” Dinah points out.

“I. Don’t. Want. It.” Mick enunciates, storming out of the room.

Richard watches his son leave, turning to look at Astrid. “He’s your son.”

Both Astrid and Dinah let out a sigh.


	6. Chapter 6

Len and Mark arrive back to the manor, Len changing out of the courtier outfit and back into his regular clothes. Hartley is shaking out the dusty rugs while Baez attends to the garden. She stops, wiping the sweat from her brow and looks up to see Len and Mark make their way from the stable towards them. She gasps, dropping the hoe and run towards them. Hartley notices Baez take off, looking over and spots the pair as well. He grins. “That amazing bastard.”

Baez runs across the field and Mark meets her halfway, picking her up and spins her around as he kisses her. Len slightly laughs, making his way towards them. Hartley joins them and gives Mark a hug. Len smiles, standing a few feet away and watches with some jealousy as Mark showers Baez with kisses, longing for the day when he’d have someone that loves him as much as Mark loves Baez. Baez comes over, pulling him into a hug as a few tears roll down her cheeks. “Thank you.” She says.

“Like I said,” Len pulls back to look at her. “You are my family and I won’t let anything come between us.” He looks over to Mark. “Not again.”

Mark grabs Len and pulls him into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s my job to look after you all.” Len says.

“Still,” Mark pulls back enough to look at Len. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Len leaves them be as he heads up to the manor, making his way inside. He decides to see if they need anything, finding Stacy and Laurel sitting in the dining room playing backgammon.

Stacy glances back at him, smirking. “Somebody’s in trouble.” She says in a singsongy voice.

Len arches a brow at that. “What do you mean?”

Theodore appears behind Len, shoving him until he’s sitting in the chair in the corner. “Did you really think that we are daft? It’s utterly deceitful what you did.”

“It’s deceitfulness that I will not stand to have in this house.” Ingrid magically appears by Theodore’s side, glaring daggers at him.

Len’s brows furrow in confusion. “I don’t- what did I do?”

“Think Lenny.” Stacy says. Len shoots her a glare for using the nickname his sister gave and that only she was allowed to use. “Think really hard.”

Len’s eyes shift from Stacy to Laurel, watching her mouth, “The horse.” Oh. Right. That. Len almost forgot about that, seeing as his earlier run-in with the prince was still running through his mind. “Prince Mick stole our horse this morning?” Len ventures a guess.

“Yeesss.” Ingrid drawls in a slightly mocking tone.” And that would explain why he returned it this afternoon. How _dare_ you let him surprise us like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

Theodore lets out something akin to a growl as Ingrid moves to stand next to her favored daughter. “Luckily, Stacy turned in a beautiful performance.” Laurel makes a little face and Len presses his lips together to stifle a laugh. “She and the prince had quite an interlude.” Ingrid says, her tone proud. Laurel rolls her eyes and Len flashes her a small smile.

“That and he was practically undressing me with his eyes.” Theodore says.

‘ _Was he really?_ ’ Len wanted to say but kept quiet.

“Yes. I wouldn't be surprised if he drops by again.” Stacy grins.

Len resists the urge to roll his eyes because only she would think that.

“So now, dear brother,” Theodore leans in close, hand gripping his still bruised shoulder. Len hisses as he glares at him. “The simplest phrase is said to have a thousand meanings so we need to know what you said. After all, he said you were forceful.”

Len wants to laugh because of course he thought Len was being forceful as he yelled and berated the prince with a barrage of apples. “Well, I called him a thief, but that’s because I didn’t recognize him until it was too late.”

Both Theodore and Ingrid burst out laughing, only serving to rile Len up more. “Oh Lenny.” Theodore shakes his head. “You poor, pathetic little country boy.”

“We must work extra hard to make sure the manor is spotless.” Ingrid looks at him. “I will not have a royal bum sitting on a dirty chair.”

“Yes ma’am.” Len says, looking past her to see Mark and Baez standing in the doorway.

Stacy notices them as well. “What is he doing here?”

Ingrid spins to face Mark, who looks at her. “I have worked your,” Mark begins. Ingrid raises a brow and Len sends him a warning look. “My debts, madam.” He corrects. “They told me that I could go home.”

“Fine. Go.” Ingrid waves her hand. “Catch a chicken or something.”

Baez and Mark head off, Len standing up and following after them. Len spends the rest of the day avoiding Theodore just as Mick spent the day avoiding his father.

After dinner, Mick asks his mother and Dinah to go for a stroll through the gardens, figuring they would be the best people to ask about his mysterious Leo. He tells them about him, describing his features to them.

“What did you say his name was?” Astrid asks.

“He just said his name was Leo.”

“No last name?” Dinah asks. Mick shakes his head. “Odd. Seems he really doesn’t want you to find him.”

“And yet I want to find him, hence why I’m asking you two.” Mick looks at the two women on either side of him. “Surely you’ve heard of him?”

“Oh darling. There are too many courtiers to remember them all by name.” Astrid says.

“And even harder when all he gave you was his first name.” Dinah adds.

“You ask because you want to find him but why?” Astrid looks her son over.

“Hm? Oh. No reason.”

Astrid and Dinah share a look before Richard’s voice sounds from behind them. “In honor of senior Da Vinci, I’ve decided to throw a ball.” Mick closes his eyes and draws in a breath to steel himself as his father draws nearer. “A masked ball at which point we shall strike a compromise.”

“You? Make a compromise?” Mick raises a brow and lightly chuckles. “Yeah, right.”

“If love is what you seek, then I suggest you feel it before then. For in five days, at the stroke of midnight, you will announce your engagement to the person of your choice or I will announce it for you. Are we agreed?”

“Whatever happened to giving the crown to Sara?”

“She’s busy off galavanting with her new love and planning a wedding. Besides, it would take several years to bring her up to speed at which time you could renounce your claim if that is what you wish.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Mick shrugs, heading off to his room. He collapses down onto his bed, raising a hand to his still sore forehead. His mind flutters back to that morning, to the servant that yelled at him. That same, indescribable feeling surfaces again and his mind filters back to Leo and the feeling that he meet the young man before comes back, though he can’t seem to be able to place him. Mick really wants to find Leo because he wants to spend time with him to get to know him and be with him.

Mick can’t help but wonder who Leo really was and, more importantly, how he would react in bed. His hand slides down and slips inside his pants, his fingers wrapping around his shaft. Mick wonders if Leo would sit back and let Mick ravish him. He quickly dismisses that idea because based on their conversation, Mick thinks Leo would fight Mick at every turn, both fighting for dominance. Mick lightly moans as his hand begins to move up and down, imagining that he’d let Leo top if only to watch him pleasure himself on his cock. Mick groans as he imagines the lust and desire filling those icy blue eyes, bucking his hips up into his hand as he imagines Leo throwing his head back, hands clawing at Mick’s chest as he cries out.

“Fuck.” Mick gasps, spilling all over his hand. He lays there, hand still wrapped lazily around his cock as his mind works up a plan to find Leo. “I’ll find him and when I do, Imma make him mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, messengers go out to deliver about the ball. Ingrid reads over the letter, a brow rising as it explains that every eligible person, man or women, is to attend. She looks at the short, curly haired messenger. “And what news of the engagement?”

“Cancelled.” He says, making both of Ingrid’s brows shoot up. “Rumor has it he’s to find himself a partner before that very night.”

“Well that doesn’t give us much time.” Ingrid folds up the letter and pulls out her coin purse. “I will need to know all the competition, every move he makes, his agenda, and any other tidbits you may dig up.” She deposits ten silver pieces into his hand.

The courier stare at the coins for a moment before looking at Ingrid. “He’s going to spare with the Marquis de Limoges tomorrow at noon.”

Ingrid smirks. “Well, you must know I’m quite fond of our little intrigue.” 

The courier smiles. “I have an inkling, my lady.”

Ingrid smiles and hurries inside while Len and Baez are down by the bee hives, collecting sections of comb to gather honey from.

Baez lets out a little giggle. “Oh, how I would have given anything to see you dressed up like a courtier and talking to the prince.”

“It was more like I was scolding him.” Len shakes his head. “And I can’t believe I gave him that horrible nickname my father gave me.” Len places the last comb on the plat Baez is holding, setting the tools down and puts the lid back on the hive. “Not only that, but he’s quite arrogant and really insufferable.”

“Yes, you’ve been saying that all day.”

“Well it’s true.” Len and Baez roll up the protective nets covering their faces.

“You have to remember that he’s royalty Len- they’re born like that.”

Len follows Baez as they head back up to the manor. “I guess the only real punishment for that is you have to live with other rich, arrogant assholes.”

Baez smiles. “I bet he’s charming, once you get to know him.”

Len rolls his eyes. “Right. I’m sure the prince who’s well known for his ferocity in battle and numerous escapades in the bedroom is charming.”

Baez grins as she looks at him. “You are smitten.”

Len frowns at her. “I am not smitten.”

Baez continues to smirk as they make their way inside. Hartley glance up. “Why do you look like you’re ready to bite someone’s head off?” He looks at Len.

“He’s in denial about being smitten with the prince.” Baez declares, setting the plate down.

“Oh really?” Hartley smirks.

Len glares at them. “I am  _ not  _ smitten.”

Baez and Hartley both laugh. “Whatever you say.”

Len glowers as MArk enters the kitchen, looking at Len. “Hey lover boy, you might want to check on the terrors.”

“Why?”

“Just...you’ll want to.”

Len sigh. “Fine.” He grabs a couple of logs. “I was going to restock all the fireplaces anyway.”

Laurel frowns as Ingrid leads Stacy and Theodore into Lisa’s old room, opening the closet and pulls out Lisa’s and Len’s dowry. Stacy gawks and practically drools all over  [ Lisa’s dress ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/39/56/74/3956742525bd235436c021e37e20e08d.jpg) , the gold fabric glittering in the sunlight and the gems all along the bodice glimmer as if they were real stones. Theodore admires the soft velvet fabric of Len’s  [ navy blue suit ](https://i0.wp.com/images.metmuseum.org/CRDImages/ci/web-large/DT4013.jpg) and the intricate threadwork running around the cuffs of the sleeves and down along the lapels of the jacket. “That suit’s Len’s.” Laurel says. “Perhaps he’ll want to wear it to the ball.”

“Since when does a royal function include commoners?” Theodore looks at her.

Laurel slightly frowns. “Not historically but the letter did say, “To all eligible persons’-”

“But he’s not of noble blood.” Stacy says, holding Lisa’s dress up to her.

Laurel’s frown only deepens.

“And besides, who would notice?” Ingrid asks, helping Stacy hold the dress to her.

“No one.” Theodore replies, holding the suite to himself.

Len follows the sound of voices, frowning when they come from Lisa’s room. He makes his way inside and stares as Stacy and Theodore hold up his and his sister’s wedding dowry to themselves. “What are you doing?” Len manages to keep the anger from his voice.

Stacy, Theodore and Ingrid jump, removing the outfits from themselves. “Um,” Ingrid says. “We were just airing out your suite.”

Len slightly frowns. “Then why is my sister’s dress out as well?”

Stacy looks at her mother as Ingrid stares back at her. “Well,”

“We wanted to air that out as well before sending it off to your sister.” Stacy says.

Len’s eyes slightly narrow as does Laurel’s. “His suite?” Laurel asks. “I thought you said that-”

“I mean,” Theodore interrupts. “I suppose that for a commoner it’ll have to do. I mean just look at it,” He eyes the suite with forced disgust. “It’s quite horrendous.”

Laurel doesn’t believe a single word, looking to see Len has that same doubt. “So, what are you saying?” Len slowly takes a couple steps forward. “That it is your wish for me to go to the mask?”

“Of course.” Ingrid says.

“I...don’t know what to say.”

“Say? Honesty Leonard, it hurts me that you don’t feel like one of my children.” Ingrid says. “You know, I thought we could go as one big happy family, that is if you complete your chores in time and mind your manners until then.”

“Right.” Len looks at them, depositing the logs next to the fireplace. “Well, I’ll just go resume my chores now.” He leaves the room and a few minutes later Laurel follows after him.

“You know they’re only lying to you right?”

Len rolls his eyes. “Of course I know that, which is why I’m going to hide them away again.” He looks at her. “Now if you need me, I’ll be out in the forest collecting truffles before they’re gobbled up.”

Mick makes his way through the garden, hoping to avoid people because word of his and his father’s agreement has,unsurprisingly, spread like wildfire. But the garden is just as populated as the rest of the castle is and Mick just wants to be  _ alone _ . He trudges past a group of people eyeing him as he tugs his cape tighter around himself, resoluting to locking himself away in his room when he stumbles upon Da Vinci loading up a cart. “What’s all this?”

The artist looks at him for a moment before returning to securing everything down. “Some on my inventions that I intend on testing.”

“Testing huh?” Mick raises an inquisitive brow, looking over the cart’s contents.

Da Vinci gives him a knowing smile. “I could always do with a healthy strong young man like yourself. Come,” He climbs onto the cart, waiting for Mick to join him before heading down to a large river some distance from the castle. Mick relishes in the silence of being the only two people there. He quickly helps Da Vinci unload before heading down to the river. He gathers up his cape and tosses it over an arm to keep it from getting wet as he picks up several flat rocks.

“Let me ask you something.” Mick says, making Da Vinci briefly looks his way. “Do you think that there’s only one person we’re destined for?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Ok.” Mick skips a rock across the river surface. “So then how do ya make sure you find ‘em? And if you do find ‘em, are they really the one for you, or do ya just think they are?” He tosses another rock as Da Vinci gives him a curious look. “An what happens if the person you’re supposed to be with never appears or if he does but you’re too distracted to notice?”

“You learn to pay attention.”

Mick turns to glower because of course he would give the obvious answer. “Fine. But let’s say that...God puts two people on Earth and they’re lucky enough to find one another.  _ But _ , one of ‘em gets hit by lightning. So then what? Is that just it? Or are they supposed to meet someone new and start all over again. Is  _ that _ the person you’re supposed to be with?” Da Vinci brings a  [ small boat looking thing ](http://images.propstore.com/3307.jpg) to the river before heading back up to retrieve the other. “Or was it supposed to be the first? An’ if so, if the two of ‘em are walking side by side, were they both the one for you an’ you just happen to meet the first one first. Or was the second one supposed to be first?” Mick lets out a heavy sigh, tossing another rock. “An is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?” Da Vinci laughs, making Mick round on him. “What’s funny gramps?”

“The fact that people believe you are nothing but brute strength with no mind.” Mick glares. “But you can’t leave everything to fate my dear boy. She has a lot to do. Sometimes you must give her a hand.” He sets the small boat in his hand down next to the other one.

Mick eyes the wooden contraptions with interest. “An what’s this project?”

Da Vinci grins. “Would you care to see if they work?” He pulls off his shoes as Mick shakes his head.

“You’re a crazy old man.” He throws his last rock. “But a crazy ingenious one.” Da Vinci chuckles.

Further up Len makes his way through the forest, following one of their pigs as he searches for truffles. When the pig stops, Len kneels down and scourges the floor, grabbing a truffle and places it into the basket. As he looks for more, he notices how dirty his hands are, realizing that even if he was able and  _ wanted _ to go to the ball, he’d never fit in. He sighs, looking up and notices the river. He hadn’t realized how far they’d come but looking at the water gives him an idea. He leaves the pig and basket where they are, heading down to the riverside and strips down to the light layer over his undergarments, tugging at the sleeves to make sure they cover his arms. Leaving his boots with his clothes, Len wades into the river before swimming out. As he turns over onto his back and floats on the river, he can’t remember the last time he’d gone swimming. He closes his eyes, enjoying the cool water surrounding him.

Da Vinci, with his boat shoes strapped on, notices the swimmer asd walks over to them, looking down at the young man, who hasn’t noticed Da Vinci due to his closed eyes. “It looks like rain.”

Len’s eyes snap open, landing on the man  _ standing _ over him and he lets out a startled cry. Da Vinci startles as well, falling over into the water. Len watches Da Vinci surface. “You are a horrible old man for sneaking up on someone like that.” Len scolds.

“It was not my intention.” Da Vinci grabs one of his boat shoes and Len grabs the other before it floats away. They begin heading back towards shore.

Mick makes his way over to them. “Senor Da Vinci, are you ok?”

“I think I’ll leave walking on water to the son of God.” Mick wades through the water towards them, his cape still draped over his arm. “Though it seems I’ve stumbled upon an angle.”

Mick turns his attention to Len, his eyes widening. “Leo.” He breathes.

Len’s eyes grow wide as he looks at Mick. “Your...majesty.”  _ ‘Shit _ .’

“Here.” Mick pulls his cape off and wraps it around Len as they exit the water, taking the boat shoe from Len was carrying. Len opens his mouth to object but then remembers that Mick believes that he’s a courtier and snaps his mouth shut, following after the pair. They set the shoes down next to Da Vinci’s cart, the artist staying up there to wring out his clothes as Mick and Len sit down by the river. “Where are your attendants?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Len looks at Mick, the prince raising a brow. “But if you must know, I gave them the day off.”

“A day off? From what? Life?”

_ ‘I wish.’ _ “Don’t you get tired of people waiting on you hand and foot all the time?”

“Yes, but they’re servants- it’s their job.”

Len gives Mick a sardonic look. “Too bad I can’t dismiss mine as easily as you can.” He stands up. “Now I must be on my way.”

“You’re angry with me.” Mick states, standing up as well. “Why?”

Len stops, turning to look at him with an exasperated look. “Because you’re trying to berate me with your snobbery.”

Mick scoffs. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, you, _ sir _ , are a walking contradiction that intrigues me.”

“Is that so?” Len flashes him a mocking smile.

“Yes.” Mick slightly sneers. “You spout the ideals of a utopian society and yet you live the life of a courtier.”

“And you own all the land there is and yet  _ you _ ,” Len thrusts a finger into Mick’s chest. “Take no pride in working it. Isn’t that also a contradiction?”

“So, first I’m arrogant and now I have no pride. How’d I manage that?” Mick crosses his arms over his chest.

Len glowers. “You have everything and still the world holds no joy. And yet you insist on making fun of those who’d see it for its possibilities.” 

Mick stares at Len, the man infuriating him as well as intriguing him more and more. Len slightly frowns. “What?”

“How do you do it?” Len arches a questioning brow. “Be this...passionate everyday. Doesn’t it wear you out?”

Len slightly smirks. “Only when I’m around you.” Len lets out a sigh as he looks Mick over. “Why do you irritate me so?” He says mostly to himself.

Mick smirks back. “Why do you rise to the occasion?”

Len stares before shaking his head and laughs. Mick laughs as well, thinking that Len’s laugh is one of the most wonderful sounds he’s ever heard as Len wonders when was the last time he laughed. Laurel’s voice off in the distance has him frowning and sighing all too soon. “I have to go.” He pulls Mick’s cape off and shoves it into his hands, hurrying off before Mick has a chance to stop him.

“But the wind!” Da Vinci makes his way down to them, holding a large kite. “It’s perfect!”

“Sorry but I have to go.”

“I’m sparring tomorrow and I want you to come.” Mick calls but Len’s already running off. Mick lets out an annoyed sigh. “Why does he keep doing that?”

“Probably to keep you interested.” Da Vinci says.

Mick scowls at the artist, wondering just how much trouble he’d get in if he punched him.

Len hurries back to where he’s left his clothes, pulling them on as Laurel finds him. “Well there you are.” Len finishes pulling on his shirt, tying his apron around his waist. Laurel takes in his slightly damp appearance. “Why are you all wet?”

“I went swimming.”

“Uh huh.” Laurel eyes him.

Len takes the basket from her. “We should head back.” Len’s thankful Laurel doesn’t say anything more as they head back, Len heading down into the kitchen.

Hartley looks up, letting out something that’s a mix of a sigh and a scoff. “Not again.”

Len frowns. “What do you mean ‘not again’?”

“You ran into the prince.” Len stares at Hartley. “I know because you have that look.” He points at Len with his knife.

“I...I’m not….I don’t….” Len hates that his words are failing him.

“It’ll be a whole lot easier when you just admit that you like him.” Baez says, pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven.

“I don’t like him.” Len slams the basket down, beginning to pull out the truffles he gathered. “He’s arrogant and so self-centered and he doesn’t know the first thing of what’s going in the world and….” Hartley and Baez look at Len expectantly as his hands still and he stares down at the basket. “And he’s handsome and well built and well spoken.” A grin spreads across Baez’s face. “And fuck. I’m screwed.”

“Not yet you’re not.” Hartley smirks.

Len glares, pelting him with a truffle. “Shut up.”

“The question now becomes,” Baez steps in between them. “What are you going to do? I mean, you’re going to have to tell him the truth sooner or later.”

“I know.” Len looks at her. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“You better do it soon, before he finds out some other way and hates you for not telling him.”

Len doesn’t say anything because that’s his biggest fear- that Mick will reject him because he’s not the courtier he thinks Len is. Thankfully the subject is dropped as they go about the rest of the day, the three of them standing in the barely lit dining room that night. 

Ingrid scowls at the candles on the table that only have about two inches of wax left. “Leshawn,” Baez slightly jumps, not used to being addressed by her first name. “Where are the candlesticks?” Ingrid barks. “We can hardly see our plates.”

“They’re missing my lady. I’ve searched everywhere for them.” Baez replies.

“The painting in the upstairs hall is gone as well.” Stacy points out.

“Well, it seems we have a thief in our midsts.” Theodore looks at Len as he says that, making Len glare back.

“So this is how I’m treated after all of our time together.” Ingrid huffs. “Well then,” She looks over at Baez and Hartley. “I shall just garnish your wages until the pilfered items are returned. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” Baez and Hartley say.

Theodore picks up his glass of wine, swirling the red liquid around. “Maybe we should ship them off to the mines with the rest of the thieves and be done with it.”

“Oh but didn’t you hear?” Laurel looks at him. “The prince went to the king and all but demanded him to release all these men.”

Len’s eyes slightly widen, quite shocked that Mick would do such a thing and yet thrilled at the same time. “He didn’t.” He gasps.

Theodore arches a brow but Laurel continues. “Now, by royal decree, any man who sails or travels great distances must be compensated.”

“Compensated?” Ingrid huffs in amusement. “Honestly, what is this world coming to?”

“Well, I want to know who this Leo everyone keeps talking about is.” Stacy says, motioning to Len with her cup. “There must have been at least ten courtiers talking about him and how the prince fell over him.”

Len exchanges knowing looks with Hartley and Baez as he moves over to refill Stacy’s cup. “Well,” Ingrid picks up her own glass. “We shall soon find out who he is and then bury him.”

Len shares a worried look with Baez and Hartley as he moves away from the table. Yes, either he tells Mick the truth and either marries him or Mick will never want to speak to him again, or his ‘family’ finds out he’s Leo and they actually kill him. Or worse. That settles it- the next time he sees Mick he’s going to tell him the truth.


	8. Chapter 8

A crowd gathers around to watch Mick spar with the Marquis, the women gasping whenever the Marquis’ sword gets near Mick but never touching him. They both hold one sword and a small knife in their hands. The Marquis knocks Mick’s knife out of his hands but Mick quickly recover and disarms the Marquis, pressing his sword to the other’s neck. “I win.” Mick says.

“Again.” The Marquis replies.

Mick shoves him away, turning to retrieve his knife and finds Stacy holding it. Mick forces a smile as he walks over to her, taking his knife. “Stacy, you’re looking well.”

“And you’re more than welcome to look, your highness.”

Mick slightly grimaces, turning back to his sparring partner. “Let’s see if you can actually win this time.”

While Mick continues to spar, Len, Hartley, and Baez make their into the market, Baez slamming her basket down onto the corn cart they’re at. “Can we please stop talking about it?” She snarls, giving Len and Hartley pointed looks.

“Now you know how it feels to be cajoled about your love life by your supposed friends.” Len gives her a sly smile.

Baez sneers at him. “We only do it to help you.”

“And I’m doing the same.” Len replies. “If you and Mark want to get married, I’m more than willing to give you my permission.”

“It’s not your permission I’m worried about.” She mutters as she scoops some corn into a cup.

Len gives her a sympathetic look, knowing full well that Ingrid would never allow Baez and MArk to get married. The only reason he can think of why is that she wants to have complete control over them and letting them marry shows that she doesn’t have that. Len opens his mouth to reassure Baez but a chilly familiar voice has him snapping it shut and his body tensing.

“Leonard Snart.” A relatively tall man with an impressive and imposing build and even more imposing title stops a few feet away from them, the men’s crew gathered behind him. “You get prettier every week.”

Len turns to look at the man known as the Pilgrim. No one knows his real name but all they need to know is that he’s the second wealthiest person in the entire provenance, next to the king. “And you Pilgrim are wasting your breath.”

“It’s a pity your soil is the best in the land and yet so poorly tended to.”

“We have limited resources so we do the best we can.” Harley replies, stepping up to Len’s side.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” The Pilgrim asks.

“Maybe you should bring it up with Ingrid.” Baez says, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s the one who owns the land.”

“I’ll discuss it with Leonard if you don’t mind.” The Pilgrim snaps, glaring at Baez. His gaze shifts back to Len. “I might be just eighteen years your senior and though you are remarkably intelligent for an almost 22 year old, I am well endowed and are more than willing to help out for a price.” Len glares, moving over to a small barrel and continues his shopping. The Pilgrim follows. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the less fortunate. You need a wealthy benefactor and I need a young man who has intelligence, spirit, and who’s tough as nails.”

Len looks up at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not on any of the displays, so I’m not for sale. So unless you intend to buy something, then this conversation is over.” He turns to head back over to Harley and Baez.

The Pilgrim roughly grabs Len by his upper arm. “It seems that I must remind you that without my generosity, your pathetic little farm would cease to exist.” He releases Len and walks away.

Baez glares after him. “Bastard. If he didn’t buy a bustle of vegetables every week, I’d slap him.”

Hartley looks over at Len. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Len heads over to the chicken coop.

Mick, more against his will, walks with Stacy through the market, Ingrid, Theodore, Laurel following along with his guards. Mick swears he’s going to kill Nyssa when they get back because listening to Theodore and Stacy try to impress him makes him want to pull out his sword and ram it through his chest.Stacy is droning on about all the formal education she’s had with Theodore cutting in to correct her here and there. Mick lets out a long breath, glancing back to see Nyssa and Laurel talking. Yes, he was definitely going to wring her neck.

“These are our servants, your highness.” Stacy’s words pull Mick’s attention back to her.

“Really? I’d like to meet them.” Mick welcomes the idea of interacting with people other than Stacy and Theodore. They head over to Hartley and Baez, Hartley staring at him wide eyed and Baez’s jaw drops open. “Good day.”

Len comes back over to them, holding a chicken. He freezes as he sees Mick and as the prince turns to look at him, Hartley slaps Len’s hands up, making him throw the chicken at Mick. Baez throws the corn she was holding as Len ducks away and Mick stumbles back into his guards.

“What are you doing?” Ingrid demands as she steps forward. “Are you trying to scare the prince to death?”

“We were startled.” Baez says almost innocently.

Mick looks them over, feeling as though he saw a familiar face before getting a face full of feathers and corn. “Were it just the two o’ you?” He motions between Hartley and Baez.

“And the chicken, your highness.” Hartley says.

Mick feels as though they are lying to him but smiles at Hartley’s humor. “Right. An’ the chicken.” Hartley smiles as Mick glances up at the sky. “My, how the time flies.” He turns to look at Stacy and Theodore. “Stacy, Theodore, I had an...interesting time and I hope you have a good day.” Mick heads off, dragging Nyssa with him. “I should kill you.” He hisses in a low tone as they briskly leave the market. “Using me to spend time with a woman you fancy.”

“Have you not done the same to me?” She shoots back. Mick stops and gives her a look. “You’re right.” Nyssa sighs. “It wasn’t right for me to do that without first informing you.”

“That’s right- you should have because I would have been more than willing to help.”

Nyssa looks at him, a little shocked. “You...would have?”

“Hell yeah. Who says that only princes and princesses get to fall in love?” Mick flashes her a toothy grin. “The question is, are you going to get to know her before you sleep with her?”

“Of course.” Nyssa rolls her eyes. “I’m taking my lead from Sara, not you.”

Mick chuckles. “That might be wise, seeing as she’s the one getting married.”

“I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet.” Nyssa gives him a sideways glance. “You act differently around him you know.”

Mick gives her a slightly confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“Leo you halfwit.” Nyssa playfully shoves him. “Don’t tell me that you’ve already given up on him.”

“I haven’t. I just...can’t seem to find him.” Mick lets out a heavy sigh. “But, unfortunately, that’ll have to wait, for now I have to meet up with the old man.”

Nyssa and Mick head to the castle while Ingrid, Stacy, Theodore, and Laurel shop around the market before they head off to the evening sermon, leaving Len, Hartley, Baez, and Mark with the afternoon off. As Len makes his way back to the manor with a handful of firewood, he notices something caught in the tree. Upon closer inspection, he relizes it is the weird kite Da Vinci had down by the river. He sets the wood down and climbs up into the tree, shaking the kite free. The kite falls to the ground, almost hitting Hartley on it’s decent.

The younger servant jumps back. “What the-?!” He glances up, spotting Len. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry.” Len drops down near him. “It was stuck and I didn’t see you.” He notices the box of stuff and several stools in Hartley’s hands. “Going to test some of your inventions?”

“More like work on them in peace.”

Len gives him a curious look. “Is Mark hovering over your shoulder again?”

“No. He and Baez seem to be making up for lost time and are making a lot of noises and it’s hard to work when all I hear is,  _ “Yes Mark”, “Faster Mark”, “Harder Mark _ ” every ten seconds.” He heads off towards their hay field.

“Oh.” Len glances back at the manor, deciding to follow Hartley’s lead and picks up the kite as he follows after him. “Guess they’re enjoying their afternoon.”

“A little too much if you ask me.”

“Come now Hart- don’t be heartless.” Len flashes him a playful smile as Hartley shoots him a glare. “I mean, they are practically married.”

“But they aren’t.” Hartley reminds him.

“Yet.”

“And they won’t be as long as the queen terror and her two minions are around.” Hartley sets one of the stools down, placing the box on top before setting down the other stools around it.

“I’m working on that.”

“Shocker. The great Leonard Snart is making  _ another _ plan. I  _ never _ saw that one coming.” Hartley says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Len slightly glares but let’s it go, turning his attention back to the kite. “Shall we see if this thing actually flies?”

“Knock yourself out.” Hartley sits down, picking up a cylinder looking thing. “By the way, this came for you.” He holds out a scroll.

Len takes it, opening it. “It’s from my sister.” He walks several paces away, reading over his sister’s script handwriting.

_ Dearest brother. I hope this letter finds you in good health. Or at least as good as Theodore will allow. I heard that you got Marck back by seducing the prince. Yes, Baez told me everything that happened, so I’m guessing then, that you’re this Leo everyone keeps talking about. I figured it had to be you, seeing as people who witnessed your exchange says you practically scolded the prince all the while managing to seduce him with your charm. Whatever game you’re playing with the prince, I just hope you know what you are doing. Anyway, the main reason I’m writing is to let you know that Sara will be making her way to the manor within the next week or so to pick up my dress. Unfortunately, I cannot accompany her because I have to stay behind and oversee all the wedding plans. I’ll let you know as soon as we pick out a final date and I hope you’ll be able to make it. Until then, try to stay out of trouble? -With love, Lise.  P.S. I believe that one day your Prince Charming is going to come and whisk you away, so don’t be blind and stupid and let your pride get in the way of you being happy. _

“Oh Lise.” Len rolls up the scroll, shoving it into his belt. He didn’t notice that while he was reading the letter, the kite has glided up into the air and is hovering there. “So it does fly.” He says, a little astonished because he half expected it not to work.

“So, do you really think the prince is into either Stacy or Theodore?” Hartley asks. “Or is he just making face?”

“Honestly, who could stand spending time with either of them without having the urge to kill yourself?” Len watches the kite move as he moves with interest.

“So if he were to marry either of them, you wouldn’t care?” Hartley glances up, watching in amusement as Len runs around, watching the kite bobs in the sky.

“Either way, he’s already going to be my brother-in-law and if it means they’d move out and I can have the manor, that’s all I care about.” Len states, though he sounds a little bitter although he tries to keep his tone indifferent.

Hartley scoffs. “Admit it- you like him.”

“Nope.”

Hartley looks away, noticing Mick and Nyssa galloping towards them and a devilish smirk crosses his lips. “And if you were to see him again, would you go through with your plan to tell him that you’re a servant?”

“I’d walk right up to that smug bastard, telling him that I lied to him, that I’m actually a forced servant and that if he wants to marry Stacy ot Theodore then he’s more than willing to take them away.” Len says matter-of-factly.

“Good because here he comes.”

Len stops, spinning around and notices Mick and Nyssa. “You little,” He darts behind a nearby hay stack, still holding the line to the kite.

Hartley remains seated as Mick rides up to him. “Imma looking for Senior Da Vinci. You seen him?” Mick asks gruffly.

“Da Vinci?” Hartley says as is he’s processing the name while continuing to work on the cylinder. “No. Can’t say that I have.” 

“Ain’t that his flying contraption? Where’d ya get it?”

“I didn’t find it, though I know who did.” Mick raises a questioning brow. “Leo.” Both Mick’s brows shoot up and Len silently curses and seeths. “I believe he’s a friend of Da Vinci’s.”

“You know him. Tell me, where is he staying?” Mick asks.

Hartley grins. “I know that he’s staying with his cousins of the House of Gallant.”

Mick slightly growls. “That poses a problem.”

“But,” Hartley looks up at Mick for the first time since the prince’s arrival. “I know for a fact that he’s there right now. Alone.”

“Excellent.” Mick and Nyssa ride off towards the manor.

Len runs over to Hartley, throwing the bundle of string for the kite at him. “You bastard. Why would you do that?”

Hartley smirks. “One, you wouldn’t have told him the truth and second, this gives you more time with him.” 

Len glowers, shaking his head. “You horrible little snipe.”

Hartley continues to smirk. “Well don’t keep the prince waiting.”

Len shakes his head and takes off running back to the manor, cutting through the forest and bursts in through the back door. He rushes upstairs, stripping out of his clothes and down to his undergarments as he goes and quickly pulls on the courtier outfit. As Mick rides up to the front, dismounts his horse and moves towards the door, raising a hand to knock, Len stumbles out and into Mick. The prince catches him, Len’s arms falling onto Mick’s arm. “Your highness.” Len says, a little breathless from his running as he uses Mick to steady himself. “This is unexpected.”

“Leo,” Mick smiles, hands still gripping Len’s arms. “Don’t you attend church?”

Len slightly scoffs, releasing his hold on Mick. “No, I really don’t believe nor am I willing to fight the rabid crowds to attend a sermon that’s more aimed at keeping the masses ignorant and susceptible to the idea that if they step even the tiniest bit out of line they’ll be punished for all of eternity rather than telling them the truth of the written word.”

Mick smirks. “So, you’re one of the few who hasn’t fallen under the wave of religious belief that’s sweeping the kingdom. Maybe I could tempt you with an adventure to the Monastery, where they have an astonishing library.”

Len notices Nyssa riding up followed by a carriage. “That’s not fair.” He looks at Mick. “You seen to have found my weakness and yet yours remains hidden.”

“I thought it’s be obvious.” Mick’s eyes rake over Len and Len feels heat rising in his checks. “Captain Nyssa,” The captain perk up at the call of her name. “I’ll not need my horse nor your services.”

Nyssa smiles. “AS you wish.” She takes Mick’s horse and starts back to the castle as Mick and Len make their way to the Monastery. Len looks out the window, trying to work up the courage to tell Mick the truth. He’s never had a problem speaking his mind before and the only other person who made his mouth not function and remain silent was his father. But fear is what kept him silent then and there’s a small part of him that believes that’s true now. Not the fear of a being beaten to within an inch of his life, but the fear of losing Mick, the one good thing in his life right now and he can’t have that happen.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell me who your cousin is.” Mick says. Len looks at him. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with ‘em either.”

Len gives a small smile. “We can choose our friends but we cannot choose our family.” Mick huffs in agreement. “Though family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs; the ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile and who love you no matter what.”

“That your definition of a family?”

“And if I were to say yes?” Len gives him a challenging look.

“Well, then I’d have to find out whether or not you consider me a friend.”

Len laughs at that. “That is so arrogant of you.”

“Aren’t I just an arrogant asshole with no pride?” Mick grins Len a cheeky smile.

Len points at him.”I never called you an asshole.”

“But you wanted to.”

“I...I am not even going to dignify that with a response.” Len turns to look out the window.

Mick chuckles and Len can’t help the smiles that spreads across his lips. They soon arrive at the Monastery and Len looks around in awe at the size, wishing that he could spend more than an afternoon here. Len traces his hands over the leather bindings, trying to figure out which one he wanted to read first, eyes ranking over the walls of shelves of books. “It almost makes me want to cry.”

“Just pick one already.” Mick says, his tone light.

Len looks at Mick as if the prince has gone mad. “I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the night sky.”

“And why are you so touched by being around ‘em?” Mick motions to the books.

Len turns to look back at the books, slowly making his way down the stairs as he traces over the bindings. “That might be because they remind me of my mother and sister.” Mick follows Len, looking quite interested. “My mother used to read to me because to the written word- I must often than not I would fall asleep to the sound of her voice.”

“What kind of books?”

“All kinds.” Len makes his way over to the banister, leaning against it as he watches the monks work. Mick stands next to him. “Science, philosophy, art, history, literature. She died just before I turned seven and  _ Utopia _ is the last book she ever read to me. Seeing as my sister was four when she died, she never got to hear our mother read to her so I did- I read all the same books mother did but  _ Utopia _ was her favorite.”

“No wonder you quoted it.”

Len glances over at Mick, catching his eye. “Possibly.” They held each other’s gazes before Len looks back down at the monks. “Though I would give anything to hear my mother’s voice again.” Mick chuckles. Len scowls at him. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“No, I don’t.” Mick looks at Len. “I’m not laughing at that, I swear.” Len doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I was laughing because you’re a curious person Leo.” Mick leans one arm on the banister next to Len as the other straightens. “I’m learning so much about you that it just...it perplexes me. It’s understandable that you’d want to hear your mother’s voice again, but what about your father? You never talk about him.”

“The subject never came up and he’s dead too.” Len says plainly.

“So you’re an orphan?”

“Not until recently.”

“So what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Len spins and heads for the front door.

“Wait Leo.” Mick follows after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“Didn’t realize what?” Len stares at him. “That there would be painful and emotional memories associated with mentioning my parents? Or that it’s rather inconsiderate of you to tear open wounds without fully understanding the repercussions?” He snarls. “Right, I forgot- his highness does not need to think for himself because he has others to do that for him.” Len marches off towards the carriage.

Mick watches Len walk away, a little shocked and in disbelief that words could carry such venom. “Leo,” He hurries after him.

“I wish to return home.” Len gives Mick a pointed look, one that tells the prince that this conversation is over.

Mick bites back the urge to address the matter because he really wasn’t good at verbal arguments and something tells him that Len would put him in his place, more so than he already had. “As you wish.” Mick grounds out, following Len into the carriage and both of them avoid looking at one another. A deafening silence falls between them, neither wanting to break the silence and address the issue at hand. After ten minutes Mick can’t take the silence any more and opens his mouth to say something but the carriage jerks, throwing Len at Mick.

Mick catches Len, helping steady him. “Are you alright?” Mick asks.

“I’m fine.” Len pulls away. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” Mick climbs out of the carriage followed by Len. They find that one of the back wheels had caught in a pot hole and has been broken off. “Well, this sucks.”

“You could say that again.” Len crosses his arms over his chest, miffed about the fact that he wanted to get away from Mick as soon as possible but it seems now he’ll be forced to spend more time with him.

“We’ll head back to the Monastery at once your highness.” The driver hurries off down the road in the direction they came from.

“And we’ll continue on foot.” Len begins continuing down the road at a brisk pace.

“That’s half a day’s walk.” Mick points out.

Len stops and looks back at him. “What? Is his majesty afraid of a little exercise and adventure?” Len says in a mocking tone, giving Mick a challenging look.

“Of course not.”

“Good.” Len continues at his brisk pace. “Try to keep up.”

Mick sucks in a breath, Len both annoying him and intriguing him at the same time. He rushes over, falling in step with Len. Another awkward silence falls between them. Mick looks Len over, noticing his stiff and tense posture. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Len asks sharply, slightly flinching when he realizes his tone sounds a lot like Ingrid.

“It was inconsiderate of me to ask so many questions about your parents. I just thought that since you were talking about your mother that you’d be fine with it.”

“My mother is one thing; my father is a whole other story that I do not wish to talk about.” Len looks over at Mick.

Mick meets his gaze, seeing a coldness in his icy blue eyes that look very familiar. “Ok, I won’t mention him again.”

“Thank you.” Len looks back at the road, veering off to the right.

Mick stops. “Where ya going?”

“Back to the castle.” Len says as if it was obvious, looking at Mick.

“Castle’s this way.” Mick points in the opposite direction.

“No it’s not.”

Mick gives Len a look. “Must you always argue with me?”

“Must you always be an insufferable idiot?” Len shoots back.

Mick saunters over to Len. “You know there’s onlyone way to solve this right?”

“Of course.” Len steps closer to Mick, staying close to the other for a moment before stepping around and begins climbing a nearby tree.

Mick watches Len gracefully and fluidly climb. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Figuring out who’s right.” Len stabilizes himself at the top, looking around and spots the castle in the direction that he was heading. “Told you it was that way.”

Mick rolls his eyes. “Yeah ok.” He watches Len climb down, landing next to him.

“I won’t tell you I told you so.” Len says, heading off towards the castle.

Mick chuckles. “How humble of you.”

Len turns to look back at him. “More so….” He trails off as he sees a large group of men make their way over to them.

Mick turns around as well, seeing the look on Len’s face and groans. “Oh, it’s you again.” He draws his sword and knife as he steps over and shoves Len behind him. “Well, it seems there are games afoot.”

One of the gypsies pulls out his own swords, lunging at Mick. All the other gypsies cheer as Mick and the gypsy spar, moving around the forest. Len watches, slightly impresses by Mick’s swordship but is wary of the few gypsies edging closer to him. The gypsy backs Mick up against a tree, pinning his sword against the trunk with the hilt of his own sword. Mick grins at him before letting go of both his sword and knife and punches the gypsy in the face. The gypsy reels back, dropping his own swords and Mick begins wailing on him. The gypsy gets in a few good punches before Mick forces him to the ground, raining down punches until the man lies unconscious on the ground.

Len gasps as he’s grabbed from behind and a knife pressed to his neck. Mick stands up, glaring. “Let him go.” He growls, though a little breathless. “Your quarrel is with me.”

Before the older leader gypsy could reply, Len grabs his captor’s hand holding the knife, elbowing him hard in the gut. The gypsy doubles over behind Len, making is easy for him to take the knife and punch him in the face. Len quickly moves over to the leader, getting behind him and firmly presses the knife to his neck. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled like that.” Len releases the leader. “Now, seeing as you have deprived me of my escort, I demand that you give me a horse.”

The gypsy and Mick look surprised, both from Len’s actions and his demands. “My good sir,” The gypsy looks at him. “You may have anything you can carry.”

“May I have your word on that?” Len looks at him.

The gypsy looks Len over. “On my honor as a gypsy; whatever you can carry.”

Len smiles, dropping the knife and saunters over to Mick. The prince watches him with curiosity. Len grabs Mick and throws him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, easily lifting him. The other gypsy chuckles as they watch Len stand up, turning to smirk at the leader before walking away.

The leader watches in surprise before it turns into amusement as Len continues walking away with Mick draped over his shoulder. “Wait! Come back!” He laughs. “I’ll give you a horse!”

Len stops, turns on his heels and walks back over to them as they continue laughing. He sets Mick down, looking at the leader. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?”

The leader chuckles. “You surprise me. What’s your name?”

“Leo. And yours?”

“Tobar.” He looks between the two of them. “You two must be hungry. Come.” Tobar and the other gypsies take Len and Mick back to their camp, where they are given food and drinks, huddles around the fire as they listen to one of the gypsies retell him and Mick’s encounter when they tried to rob Da Vinci.

“No, I beat you fair and square.” Mick objects, sipping his second glass of mead. “So admit it and take it like a man or else I’ll have to show you exactly how I beat your sorry ass.”

The gypsies chuckle and laugh, some throwing out a few taunts. The gypsy back off, letting Mick win. Mick grins and takes another pull of the mead. “That’s what I thought.”

Len smiles, amused by Mick’s and the gypsies’ antics. Slowly, he and Mick are left alone. The chatter and laughter of the gypsies fill the air and Len notices a group of them playing rock-paper-scissors. Mick notices where Len’s gaze is. “If you want to play, then I’m more than up to it.”

Len chuckles. “I haven’t played since I was little.”

“Good thing it’s a simple game.”

Len gives Mick a look but coincides on the terms that whoever loses must share a secret that no one knows about. Good thing Len knows the prince well enough to predict his next move that Len wins several times after purposefully having them draw.

“You’re reading my mind.” Mick grumbles.

Len smiles. “I assure you I do not have that capability, otherwise I’d be winning every match.” He takes a sip of his drink, though he does smirk as he wins again. “I win and this time it better be good.”

Mick smiles, feeling compelled to tell Len how he truly feels about being the prince. His face falls into a sardonic look. “I have no desire to be king.”

Len stares at Mick, waiting for him to add a “Just kidding” but the look on Mick’s face tells Len he’s serious. “But think of all the wonderful things you could do- for your kingdom, for the world.”

“Yes, but to to be so defined by your position, to never be seen as who you are but what you are- you have no idea how insufferable that is.”

Len rolls his eyes. “You might be surprised.” He mutters.

“Oh really.”

“Yes.” Len looks at him. “A gypsy, for example, is rarely painted as anything else- they are defined by their status as your title defines you, yet it is not who they are. You have been born a privilege and with that privilege comes specific obligations.” Mick stares at Len in awe and amazement because that’s the same thing his mother told him. Len slightly flushes, looking down at the cup in his hands. “Sorry. It seems that my mouth is operating without my consent again.”

“No Leo.” Mick places his hand on Len’s and blue eyes dart up to stare into his brown eyes. “It is your mouth that has me hypnotised.”

Len stares at Mick, his heart fluttering at the way Mick looks at him. He doesn’t pull away when Mick leans in but rather closes the distance between them, pressing his lips firmly to Mick’s. Mick lets out a soft groan, grabbing the back of Len’s head and opens his mouth to lick along Len’s bottom lip. Len lets out a little moan, opening his mouth to let Mick’s tongue slide in as he grabs Mick’s shirt and pulls him closer.

Tobar lets out a long “Ohh” laughing as the other gypsies whoop and cheer. Len and Mick break apart, Len turning bright red and turns his head away. Mick laughs along with them, looking at Len fondly. “They don’t mean any harm.”

“I know I just…” Len looks up at him bashfully. “You’re the first guy- well, the first person I’ve ever kissed and it was in front of twenty plus people.” He looks away again. “It’s rather embarrassing.”

Mick smiles, dragging Len closer as he wraps his arms around him. “Well, I must say, for your first time kissing someone, you were rather proficient at it.” Len glances up at him. “I’m tempted to do it again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Len says without thinking.

Mick leans down and claims Len’s lips again, running his tongue against Len’s lip. Len eagerly lets the wet muscle in, succking on it and makes Mick groan. Mick pulls Len into his lap, making Len straddle his hip.

“Mick,” Len says breathlessly, placing his hands on Mick’s chest and pulls back.

“Too much?”

“A little bit.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just,” Mick looks him over, lightly tracing Len’s face with his fingers. “You fascinate me in so many ways that I want to know all of you and yet you entice me so that my mind doesn’t function properly and I want nothing more than to ravish you and make you mine.”

“Mick,” Len grabs Mick’s hand. “Please.” He’s not sure if he’s asking Mick to continue or to stop. Mick looks just as unsure as he was. “I...I wish to go home.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not you.” Len quickly interjects. “I’ve been gone for a while and I don’t want any of my people to worry about me for being gone for so long.” He gently cups Mick’s face in his hands.”I promise it is not you.”

Mick meets Len’s gaze. “As long as you promise it’s not me.”

“Isn’t that what I just did?”

“Maybe I want to hear you say it again.” Mick smirks, pressing his forehead to Len’s.

Len lightly chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “I promise that it’s not you- I have responsibilities and people to look after and because of that I return home.”

Mick quickly steals a kiss before pulling back. “Tobar! We’re gonna need that horse now.”

Mick and Len thank the gypsies for a wonderful evening before mounting the given horse. Len wraps his arms around Mick’s waist to keep from falling off and too soon they arrive back at the manor. Len has Mick stop closer to the end of the driveway. “Right here.” He says and Mick throws him a confused look over his shoulder. “I don’t want to wake anyone up.”

Mick dismounts the horse before helping Len off, their eyes locking as Mick’s hands rest on Len’s waist. “You know, you saved my life back in the forest.”

“Well, a man has to do what is necessary to protect himself and those he cares about.” Len says.

Mick grunts in agreement, leaning and pressing his lips to Len’s. Len returns the kiss, his arms snaking around Mick’s neck as he’s pulled against the prince. “You sure you have to go?” Mick asks as they break apart.

“I cannot slack off on my duties and responsibilities as easily as you can.” Len forces himself to physically pull away from Mick.

Mick catches his hand before he makes it too far away. “Do you know where the ruins of Amboise are?”

“Of course.”

“I sometimes go there to….be alone. Will you meet me there tomorrow?”

The logical part of Len’s mind is telling him to say no, to tell Mick the truth right here and now but he ignores that part. “I’ll try.” He says, turning and heads up to the manor, though he’s not sure how much sleep he’ll get with the problem in his pants.

Len makes his way up to his bed as quietly as possible, stripping out of the courtier clothes and down to his underwear. He flops down onto his bed, his fingers trailing over the numerous scars on his chest and wonders what Mick would think of them. He imagines the prince running his tongue along them, pulling gasps and moans from him. He imagines Mick teasing him, dragging his tongue across every inch of Len’s skin he can reach before giving him release by slowly entering him, inch by agonizing inch. Len lets out a low groan as his hand swiftly moves over his cock, quickly bringing him to the tipping point. He imagines Mick leaning down and sealing his lips over Len’s.

_ “Come for me Len.” _ He imagines Mick whispering and, with a muffled cry, spills all over his hand.

Len doesn’t dwell on the fact that phantom Mick called him by his real name, quickly cleaning up before collapsing under the sheets.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is use of the "f" word (no, not fuck). I don't mean to offend anyone, that's just how the character is. There is also description of rape, so please don't read it if you might get triggered by that.  
> I'm also apparently a horrible person to Len- I'm so sorry my darling. I don't know why this keeps happening to you.  
> Please fell free to leave comments- I'm always open to creative criticism.

“Are you sure I can’t come with you?” Lisa asks as she follows Sara out to the stable, not minding that her new dress graciously provided by Sara would get dust and dirt on it, quite the contrary to Sara’s outfit of pants, riding boots and a fitted top, her sword attached to her side. 

“I need you to stay here my love.” Sara looks at Lisa after putting on the saddle pack. “You are more particular than I about the wedding arrangements.”

Lisa steps over to Sara, draping her arms around her neck. “You are going to come get me for the ball, are you not?”

Sara wraps her arms around Lisa’s waist and pulls their bodies flush together. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to show off my beautiful bride-to-be.”

Lisa smiles, pressing her lips to Sara’s. “Then promise me you won’t be long.”

“I promise I will return as quickly as humanly possible.” Sara kisses Lisa once more before pulling away to mount her horse.

“Do say hello to your brother for me?”

Sara smiles. “I will.”

“Also,” Lisa pulls out a letter and hands it to her fiance. “Could you give this to my brother?”

“Of course.” Sara stashes the letter in her saddle bag. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lisa watches Sara ride out of the barn and waves back when she reaches the gate.

That morning, Mick marches down to his parent’s bedroom, barging in and wakes up his mother, step-mother, and father- who is in between the two women on their large bed- by throwing open the curtains surrounding the bed. Richard jerks awake as sunlight streams across his face. He grumbles, closing his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

“Wake up Richard.” Astrid says, propping herself up on an elbow. “Our son has something to tell us.”

“Mother, father, Dinah, I want to build a university with the largest library on the continent where anyone can study no matter their status.” Mick declares.

Richard and Dinah sit up as Mick speaks, Richard staring at his son as if he were a ghost and Astrid and Dinah look at him in shocked awe. “All right,” Richard says. “Who are you and what have you done with our son?”

Mick smirks at his father. “And I’ve also invited the gypsies to the ball.”

Dinah and Astrid look at each other as Mick disappears from the room. “Either something, or someone, has entered his life and made him a better person, or he’s finally lost his mind.” Dinah says, making Astrid nod in agreement and both women have a feeling they know which one it is.

Meanwhile at the manor, Len is sleeping peacefully in his bed until someone whacks him with a stick. He jerks away, flipping over to find Ingrid, Stacy, and Theodore staring down at him, the offending weapon grasped in Ingrid’s hands. Len notices Laurel standing a ways back.

“Are you ill?” Ingrid asks, a scowl on her face.

“No.” Len says instantly before his head starts slightly pounding and he remembers that he drank more than he should have last night. “Uh, yes.” He closes his eyes against the sunlight filtering in and sinks back into his bed.

“Where were you?” Ingrid demands.

Len opens his eyes to shoot her a slight glare. “I got lost.”

“I don’t believe you; you’re hiding something from me and I demand to know what it is.”

“Well then, why don’t you tell me so I can get back to sleep.”

All three of them give him an incredulous look. “What about our breakfast?” Stacy demands, her voice louder than necessary and Len wants nothing more than to smack her upside the head. 

“You have two hands- make it yourself.” Len says in a near growl, giving them a challenging look.

“You lazy little leach.” Theodore hisses as Ingrid and Stacy share a look of shock at Len’s refusal to cook breakfast.

“Laurel,” Ingrid calls and Len almost forgot that she was there. “Go and boil some water.”

Len can see Laurel bite back her outrage, stomping off and heads down to the kitchen. He knows that Baez and Hartley will help her but he’ll have to thank her later. He’s grateful that the others follows after her, allowing him to get another two hours of sleep before he sets about doing his chores. “Hey Laurel.” He says as he passes her on his way outside. “Thanks for this morning.”

“You looked like you needed the extra sleep.” She says.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” He chuckles as he looks down at the bucket in his hands.

“But I’m guessing that you didn’t get lost yesterday.”

Len looks up at her. “It’s partially the truth- I did get lost but I wasn’t alone.”

Laurel looks as if she’s about to ask him who he was with but she notices the way he avoids her gaze and let’s the matter be.

Len quickly makes his way over to the water trough, filling up the bucket to begin watering their crops.

“Leonard.” Baez calls from a second floor window. Len turns to look up at her. “You need to get in here now.”

A frown forms across his face as he makes his way inside, following Baez upstairs and into Lisa’s old room where he stops dead in his tracks. Ingrid is holding up Lisa’s dress to Stacy, seeing how it would look on her while Stacy also admires the ornate shoes with the glass like heels. Theodore holds Len’s suit up to himself, admiring himself in a mirror.

Ingrid turns around and smirks at Len. “Oh, look at who finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Len asks in a low voice, slowly taking a step forward.

“Trying on my new dress.” Stacy says.

“And my suit.” Theodore sets the clothing aside, standing next to the bed.

“Did you honestly think that after that performance this morning I’d let you go anywhere?” Ingrid asks.

“Do you honestly think that these games, these intrigues, will win you a crown?” Len makes his way over to them, watching Stacy put down the shoes and dress. “To hunt royalty like some sport? It’s disgusting.”

“You’re just jealous.” Theodore says, Stacy nodding as she stands next to him.

Len glares at them, picking up the glass slippers. “These belong to my sister and were my mother’s.”

“Yes, and she’s dead.” Stacy says in a taunting, arrogant tone.

“And your sister is a slut who’’s probably whoring herself out to every courtier she can.” Theodore says.

That was the final straw. Len storms over to them, back handing Stacy before rounding on Theodore, his first connecting hard against the side of his face, sending him tumbling over the bed. “I’m going to kill you!” Len roars as Theodore jumps up and takes off out of the room.

Len chases after him, not letting go of the slippers as he chases Theodore through the dining room and into the main living room where there is a fire going. Theodore tries to run around the table in the center of the room but Len cuts him off, forcing Theodore to double back. Theodore notices  _ Utopia _ sitting on a chair and plucks it from it’s spot, standing next to the fire and holds the book over the open flame. “Back off or so help me.” Theodore growls.

Len stops, glaring. “Put that down.” He takes a small step forward. Theodore makes a move to drop the book into the flame. Len freezes. “Don’t.”

Ingrid and Stacy make their way over to them, Len turning to glare at them. “Give me the shoes.” Stacy demands.

Len ignores her, turning his attention back to Theodore. “Put. It. Down.”

“Think carefully Leonard.” Ingrid says. “Your sister’s shoes or your mother’s book? Though neither will save you from a sound lashing and beating.”

Len clenches his jaw, scowling at them all because they have him backed into a corner and he doesn’t have time to figure another way out. He curls his other hand into a first as he begrudgingly hands over the slippers to Stacy. She snatches them from his hand and Theodore, just to spite Len, throws the book into the fire. “No!” Len glares at him. “You bastard.” He growls.

Theodore looks at him. “What? Are you going to hit me again?”

“I’m thinking about it.” Len says, noticing Theodore’s two hires muscles make their way behind him and Len can see Theodore grow more confident knowing that his “backup” was here.

“I’d like to see you try.” Theodore stares Len down. He smirks when Len doesn’t move, nodding his head and his guys drag Len outside. They tie Len down to the post before beginning to beat him with their fists and at one point, one of them grabs a stick and hit him with it. Len squeezes his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together and clenching his jaw to keep from crying out as they continue their barrage for several more minutes until Theodore waves them off. “I’ve got to hand it to you Leonard; your resilience surprises me, though it does make me wonder if you actually like being beaten. So, what do you say?” Theodore forcefully grabs a handful of Len’s hair and forces Len to look up at him. “Do you get off on it?”

Len gathers up the blood pooling in his mouth and spits it at Theodore. “Go to hell you bastard. I’d rather die than tell you my sexual preferences.”

Theodore raises a brow at that, wiping the droplets of blood from his face. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll find out that you’re a faggot?” Len’s eyes narrow into a near death glare. “That’s right.” Theodore gives an almost cheshire grin. “Laurel wasn’t the only one that overheard that. Now, I haven’t told mother or Stacy, but I’m sure they’ll find out soon and I can’t wait to see what they do.”

Len jerks his head away, listening to Theodore walk over to his guys and take the whip they hand him. Len braces himself for the lashing and he would be joking if he said this time didn’t hurt as bad as the last time. As Len expected, Theodore whips him more than twenty-five times, though Len hasn’t bothered keeping track because all he can think about how much pain he’ll be in when he goes to see Mick later today and if the prince will notice. Len doesn’t notice the tears streaming down his face or the fact that his bottom lip bleeding profusely from him sinking his teeth down into it. All he registers is the pain. He squeezes his eyes shut and the next thing he sees when he opens them again is that he’s lying face down on his bed. He tries to sit up but pain flares through his entire body, a cry ripping out of his throat.

“Don’t.” Hartley’s voice says and gentle hands make him lay down again. “You’re hurt pretty badly and you need to rest.”

Len turns his head to the side, noticing his ripped and bloodied shirt has been pulled off. Hartley sits next to him on the bed, a bowl next to him and rag in hand. “How bad is it?” He asks, his voice sounding hoarse and his throat feels raw. 

Hartley gives him a grim look. “It’s not good.” He says as he gently presses the rag to the open lashes. Len flinches and hisses. “You do know that you brought this upon yourself, don’t you?”

“It was worth it.” Len says through gritted teeth.

“Is he always this incredulous?” Laurel asks as she makes her way over to them carrying another bowl.

Len glances over at her as she sits down next to Hartley. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” She wrings out the rag in her bowl. “Someone needs to look after you while Hartley a running around doing both of your chores.” She runs it over the lashes as Hartley picks up his bowl and rag as he leaves the room.

Len grabs his pillow, tucking it under his head as he buries his face into it. Laurel continues to clean up Len’s back in silence. “He knows.” Len says quietly after a while.

“What do you mean?” Laurel asks.

“He knows that I’m gay.”

Laurel pauses in her cleaning. “How did he find out?”

“Apparently, he overheard just like you did.” Len explains.

“So, is he going to tell my mother and sister?” Laurel resumes her work, washing out the rag and wringing it out.

Len sighs. “I don’t know. He said that they would find out soon, but I get this feeling he wasn’t talking about him telling them.”

“Well, he could be hinting at the fact that mother and Stacy are meeting with Queen Astrid today.”

“Mick’s mother?” Len looks at her, shocked and surprised.

Laurel nods. “Apparently, she dropped some jewelry as she was exiting the church and Stacy ‘found’ it and brought it back to her.” She cleans some of Len’s other wounds. “Though, I think we both know that isn’t the truth.”

Len hums in agreement, though he really isn’t concerned with finding out where they actually got the jewelry. As Laurel places the bowl on the stand next to the bed, Len forces himself to stand up despite the pain and moves over to his dresser.

“What are you doing?” Laurel stands and follows after him. 

“I have to go somewhere.” He pulls out a light blue courtier outfit, draping it over his arm. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to meet up with the prince.” Laurel says with a sense of dread that only grows with the look Len gives her. “Leonard, you’re in no shape to go anywhere right now.” She grabs his arm and blocks his way to the door.

“I have to go see him.” He looks at her. “I  _ need _ to see him.”

Laurel studies him for a moment, noting the determined look on his face and she releases her grip on him. “Ok. Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“I always am.” He moves past her and sneaks out of the manor, taking off towards the forest.

Mick left the castle earlier that morning. He is able to duck out of the castle without Nyssa or the guard following after him. He makes his way to the ruins, perching himself in one of the window sills. He pulls out the book he brought from his saddle bag and begins reading. Some time later he looks up when he hears footsteps, though he is disappointed to see Sara making her way over to him. “What do you want?” He asks, returning to his reading.

“Don’t get too excited to see me.” Sara jokes as she makes her way over to him. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“What do you want?” He asks again, an edge is his tone.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, since rumor has it you’ve found yourself a love interest.”

Mick slams his book closed, looking up at her. “Did you just come here to talk about my love life?”

“Considering we can actually call it that as opposed to your sex life.” Mick’s gaze narrows, making Sara sigh. “Look Mick, I didn’t come here to make fun of or criticize your choices. Just the opposite really.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Sara steps over to him, placing her hand on Mick’s. “As well as give you some advice.”

Mick scoffs. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters, pushing him too quickly. I know you’re used to having one night stands and sex being the main goal of that ‘relationship’, but an actual relationship doesn’t work like that. It takes time to get to know the other person, hear about their past, know what they like, what they want in life before making the move to bed them.”

“And you don’t think I don’t already know that?”

Sara gives him a look. “I’m just saying there’s more to a person than what’s just on the outside. People have their reasons why they do things that might not make sense at first but be open minded and you won’t sabotage this relationship.” She turns and heads back in the direction she came.

“And where are you going?”

“To go pick up my fiance for your ball tomorrow.”

Mick shakes his head, opening his book again and picks up where he left off. He doesn’t look up when he hears footsteps a little while later, thinking that it might be Sara again. “I thought you were leaving.”

Len pauses in the front entryway, glancing over to where Mick is perched, looking down at the book in his hands. “Why would I do that when I just got here?”

Mick’s head jerks up and his eyes zero in on Len. “Leo.” He closes his book and quickly makes his way over to him. He can’t help noticed the slight look of pain on Len’s face. “Are you alright?”

Len silently curses that he so readily lets his guard down around Mick. “I am as well as I can be.”

“Yeah. I feel like my skin’s the only thing keeping me in one place.”

Len nods, sucking in a breath and steeling himself because God damn it he can tell Mick the truth. “There is something I must tell you.”

“And I you.”

Len sighs. “I cannot stay long but I had to see you; there is much to say and yet so little time.”

“Come with me.” Mick grabs Len’s hand and pulls him further into the ruins.

“Mick,” Len tries to protest.

“I want to show you something.” Len sighs, letting Mick lead him further into the ruins. “My sister an’ I used to play here as kids. It was a cherished place long ago- now it’s remembered by so few.” He stops in the doorway of a large room and Len guesses that this might have been a dining or ballroom.

“It’s wonderful.” Len says, moving over to the other side of the room and through the tree overrun room.

“You know, Sara used to tell me that these little saplings have so much life and potential, just like us. She’d used to imagine the life she’ll live, the family she’d have and I, for the most part, didn’t concern myself with those kinds of things.” Mick looks over at Len, watching the other slowly make his way over to him with that some repressed pained look. “But now, after meeting you, I can’t imagine living it alone.”

Len shakes his head. “You’re not making this easy.”

“Then tell me,” Mick crowds in, making Len take a step back. “What can I do to make this all easier for you?”

Len shakes his head again. “I don’t know.”

Mick steps into Len’s space, gently cupping his cheek. “You’re unlike any courtier I’ve ever meet and, tomorrow at the masque, I’ll make it known to the world.”

“You can’t.” Lan backs up, his back connecting with the stone wall and he hisses in pain.

Mick slightly frowns. “And why not?” He steps in front of Len, who puts his hands on Mick’s chest to keep him from coming any closer. “You are the only one who makes he feel this way and I want you to be mine.”

“I…” Len turns his head away, feeling his eyes tear up from the emotions bubbling inside him as well as the pain spiking from his back. “We can’t be together.”

“Why not?”Mick gives Len a concerned look.

“I...I have to go.” Len squeezes his eyes shut, shoving past Mick and runs for the door.

“Wait Leo!” Mick calls as he follows after him but quickly loses track of him.

Len falls to his knees next to a tree when he feels he’s put a substantial distance between them, tears flowing down his face as he allows himself to cry. “Why can’t I just tell him the truth damn it?”

He stays there for a while, gathering himself before pushing himself up and slowly makes his way back to the manor. He changes out of the courtier outfit and makes his way through the front door, quietly closing it.

Ingrid, Stacy, and Theodore meet him on the first landing. “Of all the insidious jokes,” Ingrid snarls at him. “Turning yourself into a courtier- why it’s almost absurd as a prince who spends his days with a male servant who sleeps with pigs.”

Len keeps his emotionless mask in place, his voice even as he specks. “What bothers you more step-mother: that I am common or that I am competition?”

“Where are the dress and suit Leonard?!” Ingrid yells, ripping the courtier suit from his hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The gown, the slippers- they were in my room this morning and now they’re gone.” Stacy says in a hostile tone. 

“And the suite was in my room and that too is gone.” Theodore says with just as much malice. “You his them I know it.”

Baex and Mark slowly make their way down the stairs as Hartley and Laurel come up from the kitchen, watching the scene with worried expressions.

“Where did you put them Leonard?” Ingrid demands. 

Len glances at them. “Where are the candlesticks and the tapestries and the silver?! Perhaps they are with them!”

“You will produce those clothes-”

“I would rather dies a thousand deaths than to see my sister’s dress on that spoiled, selfish cow and my suit on that ignorant, misogynistic, and homophobic ass!” Len snarls, his voice shaking from anger and tears threaten to roll down his face.

Ingrid stares him down. “Well, perhaps we can arrange that.” She says, her voice soft and quiet. She, along with the help of Theodore and his men, drag Len down into one of the storage rooms, shoving him inside. Ingrid locks the door, turning to address Hartley, Baez, and Mark. “Open this door and you’ll wish that you’ve never stepped foot in this house. Stacy, Laurel, Theodore, gather up everything that will fetch a price- we’re going to town first thing in the morning.”

“It’s only a ball.” Laurel points out.

“Yes.” Ingrid looks at her other daughter. “And you’re only going for the food.”

Laurel glares at her mother but doesn’t say anything.

When Mick arrives back to the castle, he finds that his mother wishes to speak to him and he meets her in the garden. Apparently, she has something she needs to tell him. Mick stops, staring at his mother. “You’re saying he’s engaged?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s impossible. There must be some mistake.”

“Apparently he’s traveling by carriage this afternoon to go be with her.”

Mick shakes his head, beginning to pace. “No. If he was betrothed, he would’da said something.” 

“But would you have listened?”

“Of course not. I would have-” Mick stops, turning to look at his mother as he realized something. “How could I have been so blind? I was pouring my heart out and there he was, trying to bid me farewell.”

“It takes a strong person to keep their wits about them.” Astrid says. “Especially with you trying to steal his heart.”  

“And what a clumsy thief I’ve turned out to be.”

“Oh Mick.” She watches him march off. “Keep in mind that any choice is better than an arranged marriage.”

Mick ignores her, marching back to his room and slams his door shut, pounding his fists against a wall. “He played me like a fool!” He roars, flipping over the table in his room.

_ ‘What can you expect when that’s all you’ve done to other people?’ _ A small voice in his head chastises him.  _ ‘Did you really think it was that easy to find someone to be wtth for the rest of your life?’ _

“I just…” Mick presses his head against the cold brick. “I want him.”

_ ‘And yet you can’t have him.’ _

Len sits in the storage room, gazing out the small window as he watches the sky grow dark as night encompasses the world.He hates that he didn’t tell Mick the truth. He hates how Mick makes him drop all of his walls and makes it near impossible to say what he wants. His eyes flicker over to the door when he hears it open and jumps up when Theodore’s men come in. He struggles as they roughly grab him and bend him over a nearby table. “Let go of me!” He cries as one holds him down, pressing on his bruises and wounded back while the other secures his hands to the underside and legs of the table.

Once they finish securing him, they leave and Len watches Theodore make his way inside, a bottle of whiskey in one hand. “YOu’re a pretty smart guy.” Theodore says as he makes his way over to Len. “Fooling the prince into believing you’re a courtier, that takes some serious guts.” He takes a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.

“What do you want?” Len asks tentatively as he tests the restraints.

“I need to know something.” Theodore presses up against Len and Len can feel the other’s crotch press against his ass. “I need to know why you’ve decided that you want to fuck guys instead of girls and I want to know what the difference between fucking a guy and a girl is.”

Len feels his blood run cold and pulls harder at the restraints. “I didn’t choose to be gay and you can’t-” He gasps when Theodore roughly grabs his hair and forces his head back.

“Oh can’t I?” Theodore presses down on Len’s back, making him cry out. “It’s all the same ain’t it? ‘Cept I heard you need extra lubrication when fucking a guy and I guess what I found in your room?”

Len bares his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You went through my stuff?”

“It wasn’t that hard to find.” Theodore pulls away, undoing Len’s pants and yanks them down along with his underwear.

“Stop Theodore! You’re drunk; you don’t know what you’re doing!” 

“I know I’m going to make you my bitch.” Theodore brings his hand down across Len’s ass, making the other miss in pain. “Of course I can’t have that happen all night.” He shoves a piece of cloth int Len’s mouth, tying it off. Len tries to yell at Theodore but the cloth muffles his words quite well. “That’s better.” Theodore grins.

Len squeezes his eyes closed, pressing his head against the table’s surface as he feels Theodore roughly and quickly open him up before shoving his cock into him. Tears roll down his face and Len bites down onto the piece of cloth as his body lights up from pain- pain in his ass from Theodore basically splitting him open; pain from his back from where Theodore is pressing on his wounds; pain from his bruised torso that’s pressed against the table; pain from his arms slowly loosing circulation; pain from where Theodore is slapping his ass and gripping his hips too tightly. Len’s not sure how much more he can take and is relieved when Theodore finishes a few minutes later and Theodore slowly moves to untie one of his hands.

“I hoped you like that faggot because it won’t ever happen again.” Theodore pulls out and redresses, locking the door one more when he leaves.

Len lets his body recover for a few minutes before shaking his hand free and frees with other hand. He falls to his knees, tears still rolling down his checks at the pain and realization that his first time ever having sex he was raped. He notices the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table. He takes it and finishes it off within a few minutes. He curls up on the ground, his body buzzing with pain and the effects of the alcohol. He lets himself be pulled into the darkness that comes, darkly wishing for the release of death from this prison.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close guys. Maybe just a couple more chapters.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment with any thoughts or suggestions. Thank you and enjoy.

The next morning Baez goes with Ingrid and her children to the market, leaving Hartley and Mark alone in the house. They try to pick the lock but don’t have much success. Hartley tries to get Len to talk to him to make sure that he’s alright but he never gets a response and that makes him worried.

“I have to go see the prince.” Hartley tells Mark as the evening sun drifts in and still he hasn’t gotten any reply from Len.

“I highly doubt that a servant will be allowed to waltz into the castle and have a conversation with the prince.” Mark points out. 

“Well, we have to do something. The prince is expecting to see him tonight.”

“I know that.” Mark sighs, then a thought occurs to him. “What about Da Vinci?” Hartley looks at him, looking as if Mark’s grown a second head. “I mean surely an inventor can speak to another inventor.”

“But you’re forgetting that I’m a self taught inventor and he is the greatest painter and inventor in the world. I no sooner could talk to God on equal grounds.”

Mark grabs the front of Hartley’s shirt and brings his face inches from Hartley’s. “Leonard is our friend and he’s done nothing but protect us from Ingrid’s harshness. For once in your life Hart, do something bold and brave!”

Hartley pries Mark’s hands off him. “Fine, but only because it’s for Len.” He hurries out of the manor, making his way towards the castle.

Not long after Hartley leaves, Ingrid, Stacy, Laurel, and Theodore make their way down to the carriage, dressed in the clothes they acquired from the market. Stacy is dressed in a velvet dark blue dress with a peacock feathers headdress and a simple golden mask. Theodore is dressed in a similar dark blue suit but his mask resembles a wolf than a human. Ingrid is wearing a dark green dress with a horned headdress, carrying a half mask decorated with dark green feathers. Laurel brings up the rear, wearing a light green dress with a black messed horse head covering most of her head and face. “And here I thought I was going to be the peacock.” Laurel grumbles.

“Honestly Laurel. The horse is one of God’s most noblest creatures.” Ingrid says. 

“Oh why don’t I just pull the carriage while I’m at it.” Laurel sarcastically replies.

“If you think it’ll get us there any faster.”

Laurel rolls her eyes and follows after them. 

Hartley arrives at the castle, noticing that the guards are checking invitations. He ducks behind a wall, glancing down when he hears someone whistle below him and watches someone move in the trench below. The man is wearing an attendant's uniform for the ball and Hartley notices a flower pot sitting next to him, getting an idea. He picks up the pot and drops is onto the man’s head. Once he’s rendered unconscious, Hartley quickly makes his way down to him, stripping him of his clothes and hides him before slipping into the ball. Once inside, he asks around for Da Vinci. One courtier points the painter out to Hartley and he makes his way over to him. “Senior Da Vinci?” He asks.

Da Vinci looks at him. “Yes?”

“I need your help. Or more like Le-o needs your help.”

Da Vinci’s brows furrow in concern. “What seems to be the matter?”

“He’s currently locked in a cellar and won’t be able to make it unless you help him.” Hartley says, keeping his voice down to keep the other patrons from over hearing.

“Then my dear boy, what are we waiting for?” Da Vinci leads Hartley out of the castle and they take his carriage back to the manor.

Baez and Mark work on trying to pick the lock open, the butter knife Baez is using breaks and she growls in frustration. “It’s not use; it won’t budge.”

Len sits curled up in a corner, his legs pulled up against his chest and his head buried in his knees. “Just go away.” He says, his voice raspy from crying.

Baez and Mark exchange worried glances. “We have to get him out of there.” She tells him.

“Allow me.” Da Vinci steps forward, pulling the pins from the hinges and opens the door.

Baez and Mark stare in awe. “Why, that was pure genius.” Baez gasps.

“Yes. I shall go down in history as the man who opened a door.” Da Vinci and the others enter the dark cellar, the light from their lanterns illuminating the room and they find Len huddled in a corner.

“Oh Leonard.” Baez hurries over to him, gently placing her hand on his arms.

“Don’t touch me!” Len snaps, swatting Baez away as he jumps up, glaring at them. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“But the prince is expecting you.” Baez says.

“He’s expecting someone that does not exist.” His eyes land on Da Vinci. “All I’ve told him are lies.” Da Vinci cocks his head to the side in confusion. “My name is Leonard Snart and I am but a servant.”

“And I am the bastard son of a peasant, but what’s that to do with anything?”

“It means that I’ve deceived him.” Len wraps his arms around himself, looking away. “He will not want to see me.”

Da Vinci moves closer to Len but makes no move to touch him. “The prince is more understanding than you think.”

“The night is still young Leonard.” Baez points out. “We can still get you ready for the ball.”

“I do not wish to go.” Len says.

“But if you stay you’re basically handing the crown over to Ingrid.” Hartley says.

“Then she can have it.” Len looks up at his friend. “You can’t possibly imagine how impossible it is for me to face him.” 

“You can because I know you.” Hartley steps over to Len, noticing the way he tenses and flinches away when he gently brushes his fingers against Len’s cheek to wipe away a few stray tears. “You’re strong, independent, and you deserve someone as good as the prince.” Len’s gaze flickers to Hartley as he gently caresses his cheek. “That and he deserves to hear the truth from the one he loves.”

“Ice can love fire, but how can they coexist together when they cancel each other out?”

Hartley looks over at Da Vinci, as does Len. “Well then, I shall just make you an immovable force to be reckoned with.” Da Vinci says.

Len smiles gratefully at him. “You are too kind Senor.”

“Come-we need to get you dressed.” Hartley gentle takes Len’s hand and leads him upstairs. “Mark, get the suit.”

Meanwhile at the ball, Lisa and Sara dance across the floor, laughing and enjoying themselves. “Is this what our wedding will be like?” Lisa asks, leaning in close to lay her head on Sara’s shoulder.

“If you want it that way.” Sara says, spinning them slowly in a small circle.

“I would like that. Just maybe without all the masks.”

Both Sara and Lisa chuckle at that. “Of course.” Sara smiles. Lisa leans in and kisses Sara before pulling away and yawns. “Don’t tell me you’re already bored of me.” Sara playfully teases.

“Of course not.” Lisa lightly hist Sara. “I guess I’m just tired from all the planning I’ve been doing.”

“Maybe you should retire for the night.” Sara suggests, leading them off the dance floor.

“Maybe. Will you accompany me back?”

“I think I shall wait a little bit longer to see if my half-brother makes an appearance, but I won’t be long.”

“Good.” Lisa kisses Sara before heading inside the castle. As she makes her way down the corridor, she stops when she sees Mick standing alone down an adjacent corridor, staring out the window. “Prince Mick?” She calls as she makes her way over to him.

Lisa’s voice pulls Mick out of his thoughts and he looks up at her. “Lisa. Where’s my sis?”

“Waiting for you out in the ball.” Lisa crosses her arms over her chest. “Is there a reason you haven’t made an appearance yet?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Like Leo?” Lisa notices the way Mick stiffens and looks away from her. “Look, I know that your mother was told that he was engaged but I can assure you that he is not.”

“And you know this for a fact?” He turns his brown eyes to look into her blue eyes, the pain and hurt evident in them.

“Yes, I do.” Mick rolls his eyes, looking away. “Look, before you make any decisions, at least talk to him and ask for the truth because believe it or not, you don’t know everything about him.” She spins on her heels and marches off. 

Mick stares after her, Lisa reminding him of Leo in so many ways and it makes his heart ache. He watches his father make his way towards him, flanked by a handful of guards. “I was told you wanted to speak to me.” Richard says. 

“Yes father, I do.” Mick says, eying the guards.

Richard dismisses them, moving closer to his son. “Listen Mick...perhaps it was unfair of me to put so much pressure on you like I did; about the marriage contract.” Mick rolls his eyes, staring back out the window. “I just thought it was time to make some changes in your life; you seemed to have been...floundering a bit. And, well, I-I just wanted to say...that this..university thing is a brilliant idea.” Mick slightly grimaces at the reminder that Leo was the one who inspired him to come up with it. Richard studies his son for a moment. “We don’t have to make any announcement tonight.”

“I’ve made my decision.” Mick says quickly, giving his father a grim look.

“Oh. I see.” Richard sighs.

Hartley and Baez hurry Len out to the carriage, dressed in his suit. “Wait.” Len stops, pulling his hands from them and hold them close to his body. “Maybe this isn’t-”

“Shut up and get in the carriage.” Mark says,making Len turn to look at him. “You’ve done nothing but make sure that we’re happy and now it’s time to return the favor.” He holds up a hand to silence Len. “You’ll never know if he’ll accept you and the truth if you don’t try.”

Len glances around at them. “You are all truly the best and worst at the same time.”

Baez grins. “Well don’t keep your Prince Charming waiting.”

Len shakes his head, climbing into Da Vinci’s carriage and they take off down the driveway. He waves at them when he reaches the gate. Len sinks into the seat, steeling himself on the ride to the castle, telling himself that he won’t mess it up this time.

At the ball, Laurel stays close to the food table, watching the other patrons with disinterest as she munches on a few of the snacks. Nyssa spots Laurel and makes her way over to her. “Why do you look as if it pains you to be here?” Nysaa asks casually.

Laurel glances over to look at her. “Maybe that’s because I was forced to come.”

“I see. Well, is there anything I can do to make the night more bearable?”

“Your presence seems to be doing the trick.” Laurel smiles.

Nyssa smiles back. “Then I shall stay by your side until you depart.”

“I would very much appreciate that.”

Everyone looks up when the trumpets sound as Mick and Richard join Astrid, Dinah, and Sara at the thrones. Sara leans over to whisper to Mick. “I hope that you’ll make the right decision.”

Mick shoot her a look but doesn’t say anything as all the patron’s eyes fall on them.

Ingrid grabs Stacy’s hand. “This is it my darling.”

“Welcome friends and honored guests.” Richard addresses the crowd. “It gives us great pleasure, on this festive night, not only to honor Senior Da Vinci- who seems to have disappeared- but also to tell you of a long awaited decision.” Len makes his way to the top of the stairs leading to the ball, pausing on the top landing as he looks straight ahead to where Mick is standing. “So, without further adue,” 

Len runs his hands over his velvet, electric blue suit, the clothing fitting him so perfectly that he feels as if it was choking him. “Just breath.” He tells himself.

“It is my great privilege to announce,” Richard goes on. Mick slowly scans the crowd but stops when they land on Len. “The engagement of my son, Prince Mick, to-”

Mick’s breath catches in his throat as his hand grips his father’s shoulder. Richard glances back at his son, following his gaze to look at Len, as does the crowd. Len feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest as Mick, and everyone else, stares at him. LAurel turns to look at Nyssa, excitement and joy written on her face and Nyssa can’t help but mimic it.

“Well, well well. What do we have here?” Ingrid says in a low, disapproving voice.

The crowd parts as Mick takes off running towards Len, skidding to a halt in front of Len. “My mother told me you were getting married.” Mick tells him. 

“She was misinformed, but there is something I have to tell you before another word is spoken.” Len glances around at the onlookers. “And I would prefer to do it in private.”

“But you’re not engaged, right?” Mick steps up to be level with him.

“No, I am not.”

Mick lets out a sigh of relief. “I was about to make the worst decision of my life. Come, there is someone you must speak with.” Mick grabs Len’s hand and Len tries not to flinch at the touch.

“Mick, I have to speak with you.”

“Whatever it is my answer is yes.” Mick drags Len towards the throne.

“No you idiot. It’s not that kind of thing.” Len will his body to struggle, to pull away and make Mick  _ listen _ , but it doesn’t listen to him, simply allowing Mick to drag him.

Theodore and Ingrid make their way towards them with Stacy following after. “What are you doing?” She asks.

“To make you a princess.” Her mother responds.

Theodore steps forward, tightly gripping Len’s upper arm where he knows there is a bruise and jerks him back. Len lets out a pained gasp, letting go of Mick’s hand and feebly claws at Theodore's hand. 

Mick rounds on Theodore. “Contain yourself sire and release him at once.”

“He’s an imposter your highness.” Ingrid steps forward.

“No.” Len whimpers, still trying to pull away but Theodore tightens his grip and presses down on Len’s back, making Len start to curl up to protect himself. 

“His name is Leonard Snart and he’s been a servant in my house for the past fifteen years.” Ingrid tells Mick.

“And he’s been sharing my bed for the past couple years.” Theodore adds.

“You bastard.” Len hisses.

“You are on dangerous ground.” Mick growls, looking between them.

“You can ask him yourself. He’s a grasping, devious little pretender and it’s my duty, your highness, to expose him as the covetous hoax he is.”

Mick looks between them before looking at Len, taking in his covering position as Theodore maintains his grip on Len’s arm. “Leo?”

Len avoids looking up at Mick, turning his head away. “I am what they say. I’m sorry.” He says before ripping his arm free and runs out of the ball.

“Leo!” Mick takes off after him, ignoring the partons gasping and whispering. He barrels down the steps towards the carriages and runs into Da Vinci.

“Easy there my dear boy.” Da Vinci says, his arms flying out to help keep Mick upright.

“Have you seen him?” Mick demands, his arms tightly gripping Da Vinci.

“Leo? Why? What have you done?”

“I…” Mick runs his hands over his head. “I screwed up.” He looks around, desperately searching for Len. “I was born a privilege and with that comes specific obligations, one that I have apparently cared more about than the one person I have ever loved. Or at least I thought I did.” 

“Do you have any idea what that boy went through to get here tonight?”

“No, but he lied to me and for that I deserve to know the truth and why.”

“He was coming here to tell you the truth but you left him out for the wolves to have.”

“And what do you know about it?!” Mick yells, his frustration turning into anger. “You build all these contraptions and yet you know  _ nothing _ ‘bout life!” 

“I know that a life without love is not life at all.”

“And what about a life dedicated to the crown? What about that life? I have a duty to it and it seems I have no choice but to accept it and everything that comes with it.”

Da Vinci shakes his head as thunder rumbles in the sky. “Then you don’t deserve him.” He places the ring he found after running into Len on the wall nearest Mick and leaves him.

Rain begins to fall as Mick walks over and picks up the ring, turning it over in his hands. It’s a thick gold band with a sapphire and ruby in the middle with engravings of a snowflake and flame on either side. 

Sara makes her way over to him. “You know that you should go after him right?”

“Do I?” He looks at his half-sister.

“He’s your mate Mick; you can’t just let him go.”

“I don’t think he wants anything to do with me.” He stares down at the ring.

“Is that so? Or are you the one who doesn’t want anything to do with him because he lied to you?”

“What’s it matter?” Mick turns to walk past her.

Sara grabs his arm. “It matters because you deserve to be happy and he makes you happy.”

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.” Mick pulls his arm free.

“And why not?” Sara demands. “Are you so afraid you’ll fuck it up and that’s why you’re willing to push him away?”

“He deserves someone who’ll take care of him and make him happy and we both know that person is not me!” He storms off to his room.

Sara shakes her head. “Can’t you see that you are?”

Len takes his time returning back to the manor, not caring that he’s completely soaked to the bone. Tears stream down his cheeks that are washed away by the rain, a dull pain on his back from the downpour. But that’s not the reason why he’s crying- Theodore and Ingrid ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him since Lisa and now he’ll never get that back because Mick’s going to marry someone else. He’s still crying as he enters the manor, dripping wet. 

“Len.” Hartley makes his way over and Len buries his face into Hart’s shoulder as he cries. “What happened?” Hartley asks, wrapping his arms around Len’s shoulders. Len shakes his head. “Ok. Let’s get you dried off.”

Hartley takes Len upstairs, helping him out of his wet clothes and into dry ones. As Hartley tucks Len in under several blankets, Len catches his hand as he turns to head for the door. “Stay.” Len says quietly. “Please.”

“Ok.” Hartley climbs into Len’s bed, letting the other curl around him. “You haven’t asked me to stay since the night your mother dies.” 

“I need the company.”

“I know Len.” Hartley gently rubs Len’s back, listening to his breathing even out. “I know.”

Len gets up early the next morning and busies himself with chores, avoiding Ingrid, Stacy, and Theodore as much as possible. He’s outside tilling one of their farms when Ingrid comes by.

“I have it on good authority that before your rather embarrassing debut, the prince was about to choose Stacy to be his bride.” Len drops the hoe, gathering up the basket containing the potatoes he harvested. “Men can be so fickle, don’t you agree Leonard? One minute they’re spouting sonnets about you and the next you’re back to being the hired help. Though I must say I’ve never seen you quite this devoted in your chores, except for when you were helping your no good sister seduce the princess.”

“What makes you think I do any of this for you?” He snarls, scowling when she blocks his path.

“On my, my, my. Aren’t we feisty this morning?”

“Move.”

“You brought this upon yourself.”

“I have work to do.” He glares at her, standing in front of her and stands several inches taller than her.

“Let the others handle it.”

Len clenches his jaw, ducking around her. “Don’t you get it?” He rounds on her. “You’ve won! Go move into your palace and leave us the fuck alone!” 

Ingrid trials after him as he heads back up to the manor. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

Len stops, turning to look at her. “Is that what I am? Your _ problem _ ?! I have done  _ everything _ you’ve ever asked and still you deny me the one thing I’ve ever wanted!”

Ingrid moves closer to him, dropping her voice. “And what was that?”

“What do you think? Just to be left alone.”

“And you would run this house?” She laughs. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about managing a farm, a house, or expenses.”

“I know more than you do.” Len turns and continues to make this way back towards the manor. 

Baez comes running down to them. “Leonard! You have to come see this!” She gasps. “It’s all back!”

Len runs back up with Baez, stopping and watching as Hartley instructs several men where to put things Len never thought he’d ever see again. His eyes narrow as he sees the Pilgrim standing close by.

“Ah, Pilgrim. Right on time.” Ingrid says, coming up behind Len.

“It’s all here Ingrid; down to the last candlestick.”

“All my mother’s books, my father’s paintings- you sold them to  _ him _ ?!” Len asks in outrage.

“Yes, and now they’re back. I couldn’t very well having us look like paupers when the king arrives.” Ingrid says as if it was obvious.

“Thank you Pilgrim. This means the world to us.” Len says reluctantly.

“I’m a businessman Leonard, not a philanthropist.” The Pilgrim states.

Len raises a brow suspiciously. “I don’t understand.”

“I couldn’t very well have you around to distract the prince now could I?” Ingrid looks at Len.

“Ingrid and I can to an...arrangement.”

“You for all of this.” Ingrid waves her hand around. “Though I do think I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

“No!” Len cries out in protest and pain as two of the Pilgrim’s men roughly grab him, dragging him into one of the carriages. “Let go of me!” 

Hartley, Baez, Mark, and Laurel watch in horror as he’s taken away.

Mick dresses in his formal prince attire, the gold and crimson complimenting each other. Servants drape a white fur lined cape over his shoulders as he places his crown on his head, a scowl on his face.

“You know, no one is forcing you to do this.” Sara says, leaning against the doorway. A fitted silver dress clings to her frame and Mick doesn’t think it suits her.

“I have to be married before I can officially claim the crown.” Mick says.

“Doesn’t mean you have to marry her, or have you forgotten that she’s barely 16?”

“Thea Queen is the daughter of a duke and thus, is the best candidate.”

“What about Leo?” Sara asks, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t just give up on him.”

“If he wants to be with me, he knows he can object during the ceremony.”

Sara throws her hands up in the air. “Fine. Ruin your life. I don’t give a shit anymore.” She marches out of the room and down the hall. 

Mick stares down at the ring clenches in his hand.  _ ‘At least talk to him because believe it or not, you don’t know everything about him.’ _ Lisa’s words echo in his head. He lets one of the servants lead him out to the chapel and he waits on the altar as Thea makes her way down the aisle. He can see the tears running down her face and he looks around, noticing his parents and Dinah looking pretty stoic, Sara giving him a disappointing look and Lisa just looks sad. His eyes lock with her blue one and something clicks. Her name is Lisa Snart; Leo’s real name is Leonard Snart; they both have vibrant blue eyes. Why didn’t he see it before? He watches Thea give a sidelong glance over to a young brunette that looks to be about her age and he breaks out laughing, making everyone give him curious looks.

Thea turns to face him as he faces her, pulling back her veil. “L-look, I know that...we’re supposed to be getting married….but,” She looks over at the boy again.

“Kid,” Mick gently grabs her shoulder, making her attention snap back to him. “I ain’t gonna marry you.”

“Y-you’re...not?”

“Nah. I know exactly how you feel.” He lets do of her, motioning over to the boy.

Thea runs over to him. “Roy!” She cries happily, throwing her arms around his neck and kisses him all over.

Mick smiles, looking over at Sara and Lisa, who give approving nods and smile at him, as he lets his cloak slide off and drops his crown on top of it. He runs out of the church, running past a line of carriages and he passes Hartley, who’s waiting on Ingrid’s carriage. He stops and runs back, looking up at Hart. “Where is he?” He asks.

“He’s been sold.” Hartley says with a grimace.

“Sold? To who?”

“The Pilgrim your highness.” Laurel says, following Nyssa out of the church. “Just after the masque.”

Rage builds in Mick. “Tell no one we spoke. Come Nyssa- there is much to do.” Nyssa nods, placing a kiss on Laurel’s check before rushing after Mick.

Not even half a day at the Pilgrim’s manor and Len’s been in shackles- one connecting his feet with, at most, two and a half feet of chain between then, and manacles binding his hands together, a three feet chain connecting them. Apparently, the Pilgrim didn’t like it when Len tried to punch him in the face. (Who wouldda thunk?) Len enters the Pilgrim’s study, carrying a bag of swords.

“Oh, I do hate to see you in irons.” The Pilgrim says in a sweet tone. “If you promised not to fight and run away, I’d gladly take them off.”

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” Len replies, laying the swords on the table.

“You belong to me now Leonard; you’d do well to remember that.”

“I belong to no one, least of all you.”

“Oh I do wish you’d reconsider my offer.” The Pilgrim moves around the table.

“I’d rather rot.” Len moves to leave the room but the Pilgrim steps in his way.

“I had a horse like you once- magnificent creature. Stubborn just like you. Willful to a fault.” Len turns his back to him, moving away but the Pilgrim grabs him and keeps him in place. Len flinches away when the Pilgrim runs his hand over Len’s neck and shoulders. “It too just needed to be broken.”

“You will remove your hands and maintain your distance or else I’ll make you.” Len snarls.

“You didn’t say please.” The Pilgrim presses in closer.

Len grabs the Pilgrim’s knife, holding it against the Pilgrim’s neck. “Please.”

“I could have you hanged for this.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

“I do love your spirit.” The Pilgrim grabs Len’s hand, moving it to the side as he lunges to kiss Len.

Len brings his other hand up, punching the Pilgrim before slicing across his cheek. The Pilgrim stumbles back into a chair, holding his cheek as Len grabs one of the swords from the table and points both it and the knife at the Pilgrim. The older man holds up both his hands.”Even though my father was a drunkard, he was an expert swordsman and he taught me well.” The Pilgrim bares his teeth at Len. “Now hands me that key or else I’ll slit you from navel to nose.” Len motions the area with the sword, the blade inches from the Pilgrim’s face.

The Pilgrim grabs the key from around his neck, holding it out to Len. “Your freedom, sire.”

Len puts the knife down and grabs the key. He quickly undoes the manacles around his wrists. “If you ever come after me or anyone under my household, I’ll gut you like the filthy pig you are.” Len lowers his sword and clocks the Pilgrim hard enough to knock him out. He undoes the rest of his bindings, dumping them and the weapons on the table before leaving. 

Mick, Nyssa, and a small group of guards arrive at the Pilgrim’s manor. Mick and Nyssa ride up to the upper level where they are told Len is being kept. They dismount their horses, Nyssa staying back to hold onto the horses and Mick runs towards the door, a hand on his sword.

Len makes his way outside, shocked to see Mick there. The prince stops a few feet away. “Hello.” Mick says.

“Hello.” Len says, his voice clipped. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me? A commoner?” Len takes a step to move past Mick but the prince grabs his arm. Len jerks away from the touch, taking a step back and wraps his arms around himself. “Don’t.” He warns.

Mick slightly frowns but lowers his hand to his side. “Actually, I came to beg for your forgiveness.” Len raises a brow in question. “I offered you the world and at the first test of honor I betrayed your trust. Please Leonard.” Mick takes a small step forward.

Len stares at Mick. “Say it again.” He practically demands.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not that you moron- the part where you said my name.”

Mick raises a questioning brow but complies. “Leonard.” Len closes his eyes, a shiver running down his spine. He’s imagined Mick saying his name but to actually hear Mick say it, he never thought it would sound like nor the effect it’d have on him. “Perhaps,” Len’s eyes snap open, watching Mick. “You could help me find the owner of this rather remarkable ring.” Mick takes another tentative step towards Len, holding out the ring.

Len stares in disbelief. “Where did you get that?”

Mick takes another step, less than a foot between them. “He’s my match in every way. Please tell me that I haven’t lost him.” 

Len looks down at the ground. “It belongs to a peasant who only pretended to be a courtier to save a man’s life.”

“I know.” Mick slowly reaches out and gently lifts Len’s head up to look him in the eye. He can see various emotions swarming in Len’s icy blue eyes but there’s one one that compels him to drop down to one knee, gently taking hold of Len’s left hand. “I kneel before you not as a prince, but as a man in love. But I would feel like a king if you, Leonard Snart, would be my husband.” He slides the ring onto Len’s finger.

Len grabs Mick’s hand and pulls him up, throwing his arms around his neck. “Yes.” He says before pressing his lips to Mick’s.

Mick wraps his arms around Len’s waist, pressing against his still healing back. Len pulls away, hissing in pain. “Sorry.” Mick drops his arms but Len catches them, keeping them where they are.

“Don’t be- it’s a good kind of pain.” Len looks at Mick.

“Can I ask what happened?”

Len pauses, thinking about lying to Mick like he used to to his sister, but he quickly decided against it. “I’ll show and tell you later. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Now, I think it’s time we returned home.”

“You mean back to the castle?” Len clarifies, letting Mick lead him over to where Nyssa is.

“In time you’ll see it as your home too Lenny.”

Len stops. “Lenny?”

Mick stops, looking back at him. “What? I thought it’s be better than Leo or Leonard.”

“What about Len?”

“But that’s not fun Lenny.” Mick shoots him a playful smirk.

Len eyes Mick. “Fine, but only you can call me that.”

“Deal.” Mick leans in and kisses Len.

“And I get to call you Micky.” Len smirks.

“Fine.” Mick rolls his eyes. “Len, this is Nyssa- she’s the captain of the guard.”

“I know.” Len says.

Nyssa bows to him. “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Len nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He climbs onto Mick’s horse before Mick climbs on behind him, being careful not to press against Len’s back unnecessarily. Len clutches the saddle horn, trying not to freak out about having someone behind him, occasionally pressing up against his back.

“You alright?” Mick asks, noticing Len’s rigid and tense body.

“I….later.” He breathes.

“Ok.” Mick says, Silence falls between them as they trot through the forest. “Can I kiss your neck?”

Len glances back at Mick, surprised because the prince has a reputation for just taking what he wants, so to have him asking for permission to do something is rather strange. “Sure.”

Mick smiles, leaning in and gently presses his lips to Len;s neck. Len slightly shivers at the contact but leans back against Mick, ignoring the slightly pain that flares. “I love you Leonard Snart.” Mick whispers before kissing Len’s neck again.

“And I love you Mick Rory.” Len turns his head, capturing Mick’s lips.

They soon arrive back at the castle, Mick ushering Len to his room to avoid them being bombarded by the courtiers who have a million questions. Mick shoots Nysaa a grateful look as she and the guards keep everyone back. “They’re all wolves.” Mick grumbles as he closed his bedroom door.

“Yeah.” Len looks around the large room, taking in the large comfortable looking four poster bed, the fireplace made from marble, the sitting area in front of said fireplace, and the desk in corner next to the windows. 

Mick walks over to his dresser, pulling out some clothes. “These should suffice until we have the tailor properly measure you tomorrow.” He hands Len the clothes.

“Thanks.” Len runs his fingers over the fine linen. “I’m going to need some food, something to drink, and a bowl of water with a cloth.” Mick raises a brow at the last request but sends a servant to fulfill them. Len waits until the servant brings everything before even beginning to think about changing. “Thank you.” He tells the servant boy.

“My pleasure.” He bows and back out of the room.

Len sets the food and drink on the table near the fireplace and the bowl next to the bed. “You mind tellin’ me whatcha need that for?” Mick motions to the bowl. 

“You’ll see.” Len keeps his back to Mick as he undresses, toeing his boots off, shoving his pants down and quickly his shirt join them on the ground.

Mick’s eyes widen as he takes in all the bruised and lash wounds that decorate Len’s skin. “My god.” He notices a few of them are bleeding and Len crawls onto the bed. “Who did this to you?” Mick demands, anger flaring up inside him.

“Who do you think?” Len looks back to Mick over his shoulder as he pulls a pillow underneath his head. “Do you mind?” He motions to the bowl.

Len notices how tense Mick’s body is as he sits down next to him, plucking the rag from the bowl and gently runs it over Len’s open wounds. Mick notices all the other scars that decorate Len’s skin. “You’ve been whipped a lot.” He notes.

Len slightly flinches from the sting the rag leaves. “That’s the life of a servant.”

“We ain’t ever had a servant whipped an’ if we did, it wouldn’t be like this.”

“That’s what you get when you have a wicked step-mother and step-siblings that terrorize you.” Len hisses, burying his face into the pillow. 

“So, that woman at the ball-”

“Was my stepmother.”

Mick nods, washing out the rag. “Is what he said true?” He stares down at the rag in his hands.

Len looks back at him. “Who is ‘he’?”

“The guy who was with your stepmother an’ that said you shared his bed.” Mick wrings out the rag, almost ripping it in half.

Len sits up and takes Mick’s hands in his. “No. Theodore is my step-brother and he only said that to piss you off, but…”

Mick looks up at Len. “But?” 

Len sighs, eyes moving down to stare at his hands. “There was...this one time. The night before the ball He…” He feels his throat tighten and contract as his eyes start to water from having to remember that night. “He was the one who beat and whipped me earlier that day when I meet you at the ruins. When I returned home, Ingrid, Stacy, and Theodore knew that I was Leo and that I was gay. Ingrid had me locked up in one of the cellars and that night….Theodore, he…” Len presses his eyes closed and tried to quail the sobs that threaten to slips out. “He…”

Mick pulls Len into his lap and Len buries his face into the crock of Mick’s neck. “Len, did Theodore rape you?” He asks in a slow, low voice. A cry falls from Len’s lips and he gives a small nod. Mick feels his anger flare up again. “He’s the reason why you now shy away from people touching you, isn’t he?” Again, another small nod. “I’m going to kill him.” Mick growls, a very low and guttural sound that reverberates through his chest. 

Len’s hands tightly grip Mick’s shirt and he presses himself closer to the prince because he’s not sure if he could stand having him leave now. Mick looks down at Len and protectively wraps his arms around him. “I ain’t gonna leave you. “ He says soothingly, resting his head on top of Len’s. “I’ve got you; you’re safe now.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is basically it for the movies, but I was thinking of doing one more chapter about their wedding and I wanted to see if you all would like to have two epilogues, one of Len and Mick's wedding night and one of Sara and Lisa's. Let me know and I will try to update asap. Thank you.

Len bolts upright in bed, screaming and crying. “No! Get off me! Don’t touch me!” He swats and claws at the air.

Mick startles awake. “Leonard? Hey!” He grabs Len’s hands, pulling him to him despite Len pushing and clawing at him. “It’s just me Lenny.” Mick whispers into his ear. “You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

Len blinks, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “M-Mick?” His hands clutch Mick’s shirt and he curls up closer to his fiance, burying his face into Mick’s chest.

“Another nightmare?” Mick asks, gently rubbing Len’s back as he gently lays them down. Len gives a small nod. “Same one?” Another nod. A growl rumbles through Mick’s chest. “I swear I’mma kill him.” He holds Len closer, kissing his head. “One of these days.”

Len slightly whimpers and nods. He’s been at the castle for a few days and every night he’s had nightmares of Theodore beating him like his father and then raping him. He’s growing tired of having Theodore terrorize him and has taken a liking to Mick’s plan to beat Theodore like he used to beat Len and cause him the same kind of pain he’s inflicted. Len doesn’t get much sleep, remaining curled up against Mick’s side, head resting on Mick’s chest as he listens to the prince’s heartbeat as he sleeps.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens and Len doesn’t look up, figuring it must be one of the servants and pulls the sheets up to cover him. “We don’t need anything right now, thank you.” He says.

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m not a servant.” Sara voice fills the room.

Len sits up, keeping the sheet wrapped around himself as he stares at the princess and his soon to be sister-in-law. “Sara. What are you doing here?”

Sara picks up his discarded shirt from the ground, tossing it to him. “I was coming to check up on you two.” She moves over to the desk, keeping her back to the bed as she looks over the books and parchment on it.

Len is thankful that she nor Mick or the staff question his insistence that he dress in private, though he let’s Mick see more than the others but still asks for him to look away at times. He’s still conscious of all the scars on his body from more than a decade of abuse. “We’re fine.” He pulls on his shirt, grabbing his pants from the floor as well and tugs them on.

“You know, I know why you looked familiar.” Sara slowly turns around, finding Len to be dressed and sitting against the headboard. “I remember you from the house I found Lisa at.”

“Yes; she’s my sister.”

“Yes, I know.” Sara moves over to look out the window. “A little funny and ironic that the prince and princess who are half-siblings fell in love with a pair of siblings.”

“Guess fate has a sense of humor.”

“She worried about you.” Sara turns to look at Len. “She was a little reluctant in leaving you there alone but she trusted that you could handle yourself.”

“And I did.” He looks down at Mick, lightly caressing Mick’s cheek. “And then this idiot came along and gave me the one thing I never thought I’d have.”

“Love.” Sara says and Len nods. “Lisa did tell me you didn’t believe you should get a happy ending.” Her eyes study Len and Mick. “But I think that I agree with her and that you found your Prince Charming, however uncharming he can be.”

Len chuckles. “Yes, well Mick is….Mick.”

Sara smiles. “You bring out the best in him.”

“And he brings out the best in Lenny.” Lisa smirks as she enters the room, an elegant dress framing her beautifully.

“Lisa.” Len tries to get up but Mick grumbles, rolling over and pins Len to the bed by wrapping an arm around his waist and laying his head in Len’s lap. “Mick,” He sighs.

“Too loud. Too early.” Mick grumbles, arms tightening as he buries his face into Len’s thigh.

Lisa laughs, walking over to the bed and sits down next to Len. “I’m glad to see that you’re ok.”

Len turns to look at her. “I’m just glad that you’re happy.”

Lisa smiles, resting her head on Len’s shoulder as she takes hold of his hand. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“He’s mine.” Mick grumbles.

Lisa raises a brow, looking down at the prince. “He was my brother first.”

Mick opens an eye, looking up at her. “You wanna fight?”

“Knock it off you two.” Len says.

“You said you’d behave.” Sara gives Lisa a pointed look, walking over to them.

“He started it.” Lisa waves as she slides off the bed. She points a finger at Len. “You better meet us for breakfast in ten minutes or else.”

“Ok.” Len says. “Bye.” He waves as the two women leave, glancing down at Mick. “You’re a real ass, you know that?”

Mick grins, sitting up and frames Len’s thighs with his. “We both know I’d never fight her and  _ if _ I did, she’d kick my ass.”

“That’s if Sara doesn’t beat your ass first.” Len grabs the back of Mick’s head, pulling him in for a kiss.

Mick groans when Len slides his tongue into his mouth, Len’s arms snaking around his neck. Mick pulls back and frames Len’s face in his hands, admiring Len’s features. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathes.

Len blushes, ducking his head. “Oh hush.”

“‘S true. YOu’re gorgeous, smart, an so strong.” Len’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “You’re gonna have to teach me those moves you used back in the forest.”

“You want me to teach you how to sword fight?”

“FRom what Lisa keeps tellin’ Sara, you’re one of the best and I don’t doubt it.”

Len slides out from under Mick. “Later perhaps, if you behave.” He walks over to the dresser, pulling out one of the suits the tailors made him. 

Mick walks up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and peppers kisses against his skin. “You’re gonna have to clarify what you mean by ‘behave’.”

“I mean exactly what it means- you don’t make me feel uncomfortable or try to take me every time we have a moment alone.”

“What about kissing?”

Len thinks for a moment, pulling out a suit for Mick. “Quick, chaste kisses with no tongue are acceptable.” He presses the suit into his hands. 

Mick steps back, shrugging out of his bottoms and into his pants. “What about hand holding?”

“That’s allowed.” Len strips down to his underwear, stepping into his pants and notices Mick staring. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just you haven’t let me see you this naked since your first night here.”

“Yes, well you are my fiance so…” Len pulls on his shirt. “I figured that I can trust you.”

Mick walks over to Len, leaning in and gives him a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re one of the few people that I can.”

“God,” Mick presses his forehead to Len’s, a hand cupping his face. “I just want to take you right now and show you how much I love you.”

Len smiles. “I’m sorry dear, but that’ll have to wait.” Mick lets out a low growl. “Patience is a virtue.” Len kisses him, tugging his boots on and heads for the door. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”

Mick quickly dresses and follows after Len, grabbing his hand as he leads the other to the outdoor seating area in the garden where Sara and Lisa are waiting for them. Len sits next to his sister as Mick and Sara sit a little way off. Even though Len would have preferred to have a private meal with his sister, he found some comfort in the fact that Mick is still nearby. Lisa shoves some papers in front of him, telling him her plan for her wedding.

“That sounds wonderful Lise.” He says as he talks a bite of his food.

“You know, now that I know it’s you getting married to Mick, I was thinking,” She leans on her arms lying on top of the table, looking at him. “That we could have a duel wedding.” Len looks over at his sister, an eyebrow quirked up. “What? The kingdom would love it and it would save everyone on having to travel twice.”

“It’s never been done before.” He points out, picking up his tee.

“Exactly.The kingdom is already buzzing about the fact that the prince and princess are marrying the same sex, so this would make them go wild.”

“Lisa,” He sets his cup down, leaning forward and gives her a serious look. “Not everyone is in support of us and don’t you think this would cause more outrage in them?”

“So what? They can go suck a dick.” Len’s eyes widen because he’s never heard his sister use vulgar language. “They don’t like it then they don’t have to come. But this is my day and I want to share it with you.” Len sighs, bringing a hand up to his face because she’s going to make him agree either way, isn’t she? “Besides, Mick already agreed.” Yup.

“Of course he did.” Len turns his head to shoot his fiance a glare, his brows furrowing further when Mick simply grins back, nodding at him.

“Don’t be a fucking sour puss Lenny.”

Len rounds on his sister. “When did you get such a foul mouth?”

Lisa shrugs. “I’ve always had one; you’ve just never heard me before. And don’t think I can’t see you’re trying to change the subject.” She points an accusatory finger at him.

Len sighs, slumping back into his chair. “You’re going to plan it that way  _ anyways _ .” Lisa stares at him, waiting. “Fine, we can have a duel wedding.”

“It’s going to be great Lenny.”

“Uh huh.” Len picks up his tea, taking a sip.

Lisa’s face hardens and her tone turns serious, dropping in pitch so that only Len can hear. “Baez told me what Theodore did.” Len’s whole body tenses, looking at her. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you.”

“It’s fine-”

“No, it’s not fine.” Lisa hisses. “He had  _ no right _ to take…. _ that _ away from you.” Len drops his gaze, hand tightening the cup as he knows what she’s referring to his virginity. “And for him to do it  _ drunk _ no less. I mean, I can’t even believe that he-”

Len slams the cup down onto the table, standing up. “Don’t.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Mick and Sara stand up, the prince moving over to Len. “Len?” He notices the way Len’s shaking and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Len slaps Mick’s hand away, pulling in labored breaths.

“Lenny.” Lisa stands up, worry evident in her voice.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Mick says, slowly raising his hand again.

Len takes a step back. “Don’t Lise.” He hisses when he sees Lisa move to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around himself.

She stops, looking her brother in the eye. She can see him struggling to remain in control of his emotions. “Ok Len. Ok.” She moves over to Sara, tugging on her hand and the pair of them leaves.

“Len.” Mick takes another step closer, noticing how Len’s body tenses even more and his eyes dart around at the few lingering guards. “Come.” He holds out his hand. Len eyes the offered appendage. “I’m not gonna hurt you Len.” Len’s eyes flicker up to his. “I love you an’ I just want to help.”

Slowly, Len lets one of his hands fall to his side and then slowly move up to intertwine with Mick’s. The prince gives a light tug and Len lets him lead him back to their bedroom. Mick turns around to address the guards. “Do not disturb us under any circumstance, nor do I want any guard posted outside or in this corridor.” They hesitate before acknowledge his request, disappearing.

When Mick closes the door and comes to stand in front of Len at the foot of the bed, something in Len seems to crack and he throws himself at Mick and begins to cry. Mick holds him firmly against him, one hand pressing against Len’s lower back and the other holding the back of his head. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

Mick sits down on the bed, letting Len straddle him as he rube his back. Len buries his head into the crock of Mick’s neck and shoulder, his whole body shaking as memories of that night flash through his mind. Mick shooshes and tells him that he;s safe and everything will be ok. “That’s it Len.” Mick whispers. “You’re safe now.”

Len pulls back  enough to look at Mick, his eyes watery and cheeks red. “Make it go away.”

“I wish I could Lenny.” Mick caresses his cheek.

“Erase what he did to me.”

“Len, if I could-”

“Make it go away.” Len clutches the front of his shirt and presses in closer to Mick. “Please, just make it stop.”

Mick stares at Len, not sure if Len’s asking him what he thinks he’s asking him. “Len, do you want me to erase it by sleeping with you?” Mick asks slowly. Len nods. “I’m not sure-”

Len presses his lips to Mick’s, cutting off any agreement he would have made. Len pulls away, forehead pressed against Mick’s. “I need you Mick.” His hands tighten their grip on Mick’s shirt as he begins trembling again. “I need you.” He whispers.

“Ok Lenny.” Mick wraps his arms around Len’s legs, flipping them over and lays Len down in the middle of his bed. He hovers over Len, looking down into his blue eyes. “Only if you’re sure.”

Len nods, leaning up and kissing him. “I am.”

Mick nods, sitting back on his knees and pulls Len up with him. His hands grabs the hem of Len’s shirt, but waits until Len gives him the go ahead before pulling the article off. Len shivers, wiping the few remaining tears with the back of his hand. Mick gently pushes Len down, kissing along his jaw to his his ear. “If you want me to stop, just say so and I will.”

Len lets out a breath. “Ok.”

Mick presses a kiss to his neck. “I love you.”

Len lets out a breathy moan. “I-I love you too.”

Mick smiles, trailing kisses down Len’s neck to his chest. He maps out every scar with his tongue, watching Len’s reactions and is pleaded to find the other enjoying it. “God, you’re gorgeous.” Mick breathes, watching Len writhe and moan underneath him. Mick grins when Len’s checks flush brighter. “An’ don’t try to deny it ‘cuz it’s true.”

“W-wasn’t thinking a-about it.” Len breaths, hips buckling when Mick’s tongue drips under the seam of his pants. “Mick.” He whines. “Stop b-being a tease.”

“I just want to properly erase these memories.” He moves back up Len’s body, pressing down and makes sure Len can feel his growing erection. “I want to make sure that whenever you hear the word sex,” Mick kisses and lightly nips Len’s neck, making him moan and grip his shoulders. “All you can think about is how amazing I make you feel, how much you love the feel of my cock deep inside you.” He thrusts his hips against Len’s thigh. “How much you  _ beg _ for me to fuck you into the mattress and make you  _ scream _ .” He sucks on the pulse point of Len’s neck.

Len cries out, bucking up against Mick. “Yes, yes yes yes.” He pants. “Please Mick.  _ Please _ .”

“Patience is a virtue.” Mick grins when Len shoots him a glare. “Your words, not mine and I think I’ll take your advice.” His hands trace down Len’s sides, dipping inside his pants to tease him before slowly pulling them off. Mick kisses down Len’s chest once again, shoving Len’s pants and boots off, letting his hands slide up Len’s legs. Len pants, watching Mick’s tongue dart out and lap at his skin revealed when Mick slowly removes his underwear. Mick looks up at Len, kissing the inside of his thighs. “Would it be too much to ask you to roll over?”

Len’s whole body seizes up at the thought of having someone behind him again, but if Mick can override and erase what Theodore did, then he has to try. He rolls over, head turning to the side to look back at the prince.

Mick runs his hands over Len’s tense muscles. “It’s just me Lenny.”

“I know.” Len lets out a shaky breath. “It’s just…”

Mick nods. “I get it.” His hands rest on Len’s hips. “I’m just going to,” He gently lifts Len’s hips up, making him move so he’s on his knees. Mick presses a kiss to Len’s lower back, kissing up to his neck. “Don’t worry- I’m going to erase everything he did.”

“You better.”

Mick smiles, moving off the bed. Len watches him strip himself, eyes darkening with lust as he looks over his fiance’s toned body. “See somethin’ you like?” Mick teases, pulling out a small bottle from his nightstand.

Len licks his lips. “Very much.”

Mick smirks, climbing back onto the bed and behind Len, popping the cap of the bottle. “I’m going to start opening you up now.”

Ok.” Len turns his head to watch Mick poor a good amount of lube  onto his fingers, warming it up before circling Len’s entrance. Len sucks in a breath, letting out a low moan as Mick slowly teases one finger inside. He lets his eyes flutter closed, groaning and tensing a second as Mick slides another finger in alongside the first. 

“It’s just me Lenny.” Mick says, stilling his fingers and pressing a kiss to his back.

“I know.” Len lets out a breath and forces himself to relax.

Mick slowly moves his fingers, opening Len up. “That’s it.” He says when Len relaxes more, moaning when his fingers brush over his prostate. Mick continues to kiss Len’s skin, lightly nipping the skin and smirks when he finds Len like that. He works up to three fingers, thrusting them in and out of Len and removes then when Len begins thrusting back against them. Len whines at the loss. “Don’t worry- you’ll be full in a second.”

Len gasps, clutching the sheets as the head of Mick’s cock pushes inside of him. Mick stops, leaning over Len. “Are you ok?”

Len nods. “Keep going.” Len grits his teeth as Mick pushes all the way in, crying out when Mick’s cock brushes his prostate.

“Len, if this is hurting you-”

“It’s not.” Len gasps. “Just...give me a minute.” Mick clutches the sheets on either side of Len’s head. Len pulls in a few measured breaths, getting used to having Mick inside him. “Ok. You can move.”

Ever so slowly, Mick pulls out and pushes back inside, listening to Len’s gasps turn into moans as he sets a slow rhythm. Len arches his back when Mick hits his prostate. “Faster.” He gasps.

“Are you sure?” Mick asks, his mouth close to Len’s ear.

Len looks up at him. “Mick, if you don’t go faster, I will make you.”

“Ok.” Mick slowly increases his speed.

Len groans as Mick hits his prostate every time, thrusting back to meet Mick's hips. “Mick, please.”

“Please what?” Mick slightly pants.

Len pushes himself up onto his elbows, pressing up against Mick and let’s his head drop back against Mick’s shoulder. “Fuck me into the mattress.”

Mick let’s out a low growl, turning Len’s head to the side and claims his lips in a bruising kiss as his ships snap forward with more force and speed. Len cries out, letting Mick kiss him for a few more seconds before he has to break away for much needed air. “Oh Mick!” He gasps, his head dropping to hang between his arms.

Mick grunts again, sucking a mark into Len’s neck as he pounds into Len. The other cries out, panting heavily as Mick continues sucking marks on his shoulders and occasionally biting him. 

“Fuck Mick.” Len gasps as one of Mick’s hands moves down to grip his hips. “Oh yes!” He throws his head back, almost screaming when Mick’s hand moves down to grip his cock. “Yes, yes, yes!” He chants as he thrusts into Mick’s hand and back onto his cock. “Close. So fucking close.”

Mick moves his mouth up to nip at Len’s ear. “Scream my name, let everyone in this fucking castle know who you belong to.” He growls, the sound reverberating through his chest and into Len’s.

“Fuck!  _ MICK _ !” Len screams, clutching the sheets hard enough that his knuckles turn white as his come splatters over Mick’s hand and onto the sheets underneath him.

“That’s right.” Mick lets go of Len’s spent cock, pounding into Len as he chases his own climax.

Len gasps as Mick hits his overstimulated prostate. “Mick.” He throws his head back, laying it on Mick’s shoulder. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me come again.”

Mick grins. “Shouldn’t have told me that Lenny.” He doubles his efforts, revealing in the sounds Len makes as he comes again. “Fuck Lenny.”

Len gasps, turning his head to whisper into Mick’s ear. “Make me yours Mick.”

Mick lets out a low, guttural growl, biting down on Len’s shoulder as he thrusts one last time and fills Len up with his come. 

Len collapses down onto the bed, pulling in labored breaths. Mick rolls them onto their sides, pulling Len flush against him as his cock softens inside Len. “Are you ok?” Mick asks once he catches his breath.

“I’m better than ok.” Len says.

“That’s good.” Mick nuzzles the back of Len’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Sorry for biting you.”

Len scoffs. “Now he apologizes.”

Mick raises a brow, propping himself up on an elbow. “Did you want me to stop and apologize immediately after?”

“I was joking.” Len turns his head to look back at him.

Mick huffs, slowly pulling his cock out of Len and settles down again. Len slightly groans, missing the feel of Mick inside him, but he rolls over and lays his head on Mick’s chest, one of his legs sliding between Mick’s. The prince lets out a low purr, dipping his arms around Len protectively.

“Thank you.” Len says quietly.

“Does this mean I successfully accomplished erasing those memories?”

Len opens his mouth to tell Mick that yes, he did but and idea pops in his head and he can’t help but smirk. He begins to trace random shapes and patterns into Mick’s skin with his fingers. “I’m not sure. I think I can still feel traces of him on me.”

Mick lifts his head up to look at Len. “Really? After all that and you still-” Mick stops as Len glances up at him, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he flashes him a smirk. “You know, if you want to go again, all you have to do is ask.”

“But what if I wanted to make you work for it?”

Mick chuckles. “You’re definitely somethin’ else.” Len smiles and laughs as well. Mick kisses him.

Len lets out a content sigh, playing with Mick’s chest hair. “I know that you said that you want to make Theodore pay for what he did, but I was thinking...I might have a better way of getting back at them.”

“That so?” Mick arches and inquisitive brow.

“Yes, but if we’re gonna pull this we’re gonna need help.” Len stands up, pulling on his clothes.

“Do we have to go now?” Mick grumbles. “I just got you into bed.”

“Tell you what, If this works, I’ll let you have me for an entire night to ravish and do what you want to me within reason.” Len looks at him.

“Deal.” Mick stands up, dressing and follows Len out of the room.

The next morning, Nyssa rides over to the manor, Ingrid and her children greets Nyssa at the door. “A letter from his majesty.” The captain presents the letter to Ingrid.

“From the king?” She takes it, opening it.

“He requires your audience in court today.” Nyssa explains. “He also asked that you arrived in style.” She motions to the carriage behind her.

Ingrid stares at Nyssa in disbelief. “Then we shall get ready.” She hurries off with Stacy and Theodore. Laurel lingers, sharing a knowing look with Nyssa before closing the door. They soon arrives at the castle, dressed in their best clothes as Nyssa leads them into the courtroom. Laurel keeps to the back, bowing as they approach the thrones. Mick stands on Astrid’s right side while Sara and Lisa stand on Dinah’s left side, Richard seated in the middle.

“Baroness,” Richard address Ingrid. “Did you or did you not lie to Queen Astrid?”

Stacy and Theodore exchange confused, worried looks as Ingrid stares up at them.

“Chose your words wisely madam.” Astrid says. “For they may be your last.”

“Well...a woman...would do practically anything for the love of her children, your majesties.” Richard’s eyes narrow scornfully. “Perhaps I did get a little carried away.

“Mother! What have you done?!” Stacy cries.

Theodore steps forward, looking at the royal family. “Your majesty, like you I am the victim here- they have lied to us both and I am ashamed to call them family.”

“Excuse me?!” Stacy rounds on him. “You’re just as guilty as us.”

“How dare you turn on me, you little ingrate?” Ingrid snarls.

Richard slams his staff down on the ground, making a loud thud. “Silence all of you!” The three of them fall silent. “Good lord. Are they always like this?” Richard asks Laurel.

“Worse your majesty.” Laurel tells him.

“Laurel, darling, I’d hate to think that you had anything to do with this.” Ingrid looks back at her other daughter.

“Of course not mother.” Laurel looks at her. “I’m only here for the food.”

“Baroness Ingrid,” Dinah addresses her. “You are forthwith stripped of your title.” Ingrid gives her a look of horror. “And you, as well as your horrible son and daughter, are to be shipped to the mines of Gotham on the first available carriage. Unless, by some miracle, someone here will speak for you.”

Ingrid looks around at the room full of courtiers, slowly backing up a could paces. “There seems to be quite a few people out of tongue.” Ingrid gives a nervous chuckle.

“I will speak for her.” Len says. All the courtiers bow, kneeling on the ground. Stacy and Theodore share shocked and confused looks but bow as well. Ingrid slowly turns around to look at Len, who is dressed in a royal blue, silk suit and a golden crown sits on top of his head. “She is, after all, my step-mother.” Len waves the courtiers up and Laurel smiles at him. 

Len makes his way over to her, Ingrid looking him over with a scowl. He gives her a challenging look, mirroring Mick’s smirk when Ingrid’s eyes flicker down to the ground and she kneels in front of him. “Your highness.” She says softly.

“Stacy, Theodore,” Mick says, making their heads turn to the side to look at him. “I don’t believe you’ve met my fiance and soon to be husband.” He smirks as Stacy looks away, anger evident in her face and Theodore scowls.

“I want you to know,” Len says slowly, looking down at Ingrid. “That I will forget you and your horrible children after this moment and never think of you again. But you will think about me every single day for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

Ingrid swallows the lump in her throat. “Yes, your highness.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask, how long will that be?” She glances up at him.

Len holds her gaze for a moment before looking at Richard. “All I ask, your majesty, is that you show her and her kin the same courtesy they bestowed upon me.” Len’s gaze flickers over to Theodore, smirking at the rage in his expression. “Karma’s a bitch. Come Lisa.” He holds out his hand. “We have our wedding to plan.”

Lisa moves around the thrones, bowing at the king and queens before taking Len’s hand and they leave the room. They get halfway down the hall before Lisa looks over at Len, grinning widely before laughing. “Did you see the look on their faces?” She giggles. “I mean, stripping them of their title and wealth was a low bow, but to be able to get away with  _ that _ ?”

“They deserve a lot worse.” Len says, slightly frowning.

“Hey,” Lisa stops, making Len turn to face her. “We got something they didn’t.”

“All the wealth in the kingdom? Keys to the kingdom?”

Lisa shakes her head. “Happy endings.”

Len sighs. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” Lisa boobs him on the nose as they continue down the hall. “Because I told you you’d get your Prince Charming.”

Len chuckles. “I’m not so sure he’s all that charming.”

“I beg to differ.” Mick says, coming up behind Len and scoops him up bridal style. “Now, I do believe we have a deal.”

“Mick!” Len gasps, arms wrapping around Mick’s neck instinctively. 

“You said that if this worked, which it did, that I’d get you all to myself for an entire night.”

“‘An’! Key word being ‘an entire night’.” Len argues.

“You better let him have this one.” Sara says, wrapping an arm around Lisa’s waist. “Mick’s like a dog with a bone- best just to let him have it else he’ll bite off your hand.”

“Besides Lenny, we have everything planned out.” Lisa smirks at him.

Len glares at the pair. “You two are the worst.”

“So you say.” Lisa waves as Mick carries Len back to their room, turning to look at Sara. “What do you say we follow their lead?”

“I’m down.” They head off to their own room.

Mick throws Len onto the bed, climbing on top of him, peppering kisses against Len’s neck. “So, I know the guy in charge of the place Theodore and ‘em are being sent to.” He says in between kisses.

“Ok…” Len’s not exactly sure where Mick’s going with that.

“I figured I’d have a little chat with him, tell him the deal and have him give ‘em hell. Maybe even pay Theodore a personal visit.”

“Mick,” Len pushes Mick away, looking up at him. “Please tell me you’re not going to kill him. As much as a bastard he is and deserves to be punished, I don’t think-”

“‘M not gonna kill ‘em Lenny.”

“So, then,  _ dear, _ please tell me what you  _ do _ plan on doing.”

“Well, first I’ll make sure that he gets whipped and beaten like you were. Then, I’ll give Big Timmy a suggestion about making Theodore see the kind of pain he caused. Then, I’ll have a little chat with him. Maybe set him on fire a little bit.” Len gives him a credulous look. “Don’t worry- I’ll only burn him enough so it leaves a permanent reminder.”

“You’re a slightly sick bastard, you know that right?”

“I do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.” Mick growls.

“And I’d do the same.” Len drapes his arms around Mick’s neck. “Though, I would probably lean more towards psychological warfare because the mind if a fickle thing.”

Mick surges forward and claims Len’s lips in a bruising kiss. “I love you.” He growls. “You and your devious mind.”

Len smirks. “I love you and your unrelenting, brute strength.”

“Is that going to be our thing? You’re the brains and I’m the bronze?”

“We both have equal amounts of both, though one could argue we do tend to lean more one way than the other.”

“A simple yes would do.” Mick nips at Len’s neck.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Len smirks.

“Oh, I’ll show you.” Mick smirks back.


End file.
